


Ruby's House

by RavenHairedPrincess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Play, Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, BDSM, Bisexual Female Character, Choking, Classroom Sex, Dark Theme, Desk Sex, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Bondage, Non-con role play, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Riding Crops, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sounding, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, child abuse sensitivity warning, doctor/patient role play, full body restraint, underage sex but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-05-05 11:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 67,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenHairedPrincess/pseuds/RavenHairedPrincess
Summary: Hermione finds herself at Ruby's House, a BDSM establishment, during winter break of her 8th year at Hogwarts. Intrigued by a mystery man in black, she returns not knowing he holds the power to upend her life.“There are more forms of punishment than you seem to have realized, Miss Granger."- Ch. 7“I see you’re more interested in ****** ********* than you originally admitted to,” he said conversationally.And now she wanted to die! She had stupidly thought that she couldn’t possibly be more embarrassed.- Ch. 7





	1. Through The Crowd

**Author's Note:**

> Everything recognizable belongs to J. K. Rowling. No money was made from this fiction.

Hermione tried to steady her hand as she rang the doorbell of Ruby’s House. After nearly eight months of settling into a calm life without a war going on, she threw caution to the wind and initiated a meeting with Ruby Robins, the owner of Ruby’s House, where like minded, consenting adults could mingle. She suddenly doubted her decision to inquire about this establishment, but the door opened before she could turn around to flee.

A flawless blonde of average height answered the door wearing a grey pinstriped suit. “Right on time,” the woman smiled at her. “I’m Ruby,” she offered her hand for a shake and then gestured for Hermione to come inside. “You must be Sarah.”

“Yes. It’s nice to me you, Ruby,” Hermione said stepping inside. Looking around the overly large sitting room, she wondered just how many extension charms were on this place, as it appeared to be a small cottage from the outside. 

“Have a seat, Hun. I’ll be right back with some tea,” Ruby said pointing at the couch near the fireplace. 

Hermione had given Ruby a fake name in a letter requesting further information, not wanting to have her identity known. She sat nearest the door and took in the room. Had it not been for the rich mahogany furniture and warm colors throughout the space, the seemingly expensive decor would have reminded her of Malfoy Manor. She shivered at the thought. The high ceilings and marble floors popped up in her nightmares from time to time, and she just wanted to be rid of the memory of that place.

Ruby came back into the room carrying a tray with tea and biscuits. Setting it down gracefully on the coffee table, she commented, “You’re much younger than I had thought, or is that just the glamour?” 

Hermione stiffened looking at the woman with a shy smile on her face. “Probably both. Does that matter?” she asked feeling unsure of herself. “I assure you, I’m of age.”

“No, dear. Of course not. I am just surprised is all. You would have been stopped by the age barrier at the door if you weren’t. Now, I suppose you have some questions for me,” Ruby replied sitting in one of the armchairs. Hermione couldn’t help but watch the woman’s legs as she crossed them. They were slender and sun kissed. 

Letting out a shaky breath, Hermione began, “Well, my initial concern is security, of course, for both my physical well being and my identity.”

Ruby nodded, “Yes. We do have several protective spells and a few security guards who roam the estate while we’re open. As for your identity, trust me when I say you are not alone in worrying about that. All guests are to wear masks in the common areas at all times. What you choose to do in the private rooms, however, is entirely up to you. You see, mandating anonymity in the open areas greatly reduces my own liability,” she explained with a pointed look. “I provide masks, which are heavily charmed. They only cover the eyes for the purpose of comfort, but the charms do the rest of the work.”

Hermione swallowed thickly. She was half hoping Ruby would give her a reason to run out the door, but that wasn’t happening. Not yet, anyway. “This may sound silly, but do I have to engage with anyone? How do we pair up for lack of a better word? You’ll have to excuse me, I really have no idea.”

At that, Ruby laughed lightly. “You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to do. It’s best to think of it as a party. You mingle, you get to know people, and instead of going home with someone, you take up a room. Much like any other relationship or one night stand, you simply have to communicate your needs with your partner. Safe words are mandatory, however,” Ruby said sternly. “My insurance is through the sky, as they say.”

Suddenly aware that Ruby and any number of the members were undoubtedly purebloods, she wrung her hands in her lap. Surely if Ruby were even half blood, she’d know the saying was 'through the roof'. “I have concerns about…residual attitudes regarding the war.”

“You and everyone else, Sarah,” she offered remorsefully. “Politics are generally not discussed here. This is a place to relax, to have fun.” Ruby leaned back in her chair and took a long sip of tea. “So tell me, are you interested in dominance or submission?”

Taken aback by the sudden intrusion into her personal life, Hermione spluttered in her tea. “Excuse me,” she said coughing a bit. “I have to admit I’ve never done anything like this before.” Ruby nodded and reflected on her answer. “I suppose I am just looking to expand my horizons. I’m not sure if this is even the right place for me to be honest.”

“That’s fair enough. I can understand your apprehension. Might I suggest a trial run?” Ruby asked setting down her tea. 

“Pardon?” Hermione replied in shock. She couldn't really be suggesting that they...right now. Could she?

Laughing warmly, Ruby elaborated, “Why don’t you come as my guest this Saturday. I’ll show you around, and we’ll see what happens. If you don’t enjoy yourself, you’re under no obligation to return.”

“I think,” Hermione answered, “that sounds reasonable enough,” relieved that Ruby didn’t mean what she had originally thought. 

“Excellent. We have scheduled gatherings every Saturday from seven to midnight. No need to bring anything. Here, before I forget,” she said handing Hermione a small mask. “How does eight o’clock sound?” Ruby asked standing up.

“What about the cover charge?” she asked Ruby. 

The blonde smiled at her, “Over the years, I’ve gained enough benefactors to support the place without charging for entrance. The rooms are ten galleons a night, but you won’t have to worry about that. Well, unless you are a dominant lesbian, I suppose. Generally, I require the men to pay and always do if they are the dominant party.” Ruby winked at her, “I may be a bit sexist, but no one has ever complained. “

Hermione followed her to the door. “Saturday sounds fine then. Thank you for meeting with me.” She froze as the woman embraced her. Until now, Hermione had looked at this as an uncomfortable business meeting. However, with the attractive woman’s breasts pressed up against her, she felt particularly naughty for being there, her purpose suddenly nefarious. “I’ll see you on Saturday at eight,” she breathed and untangled herself from the woman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Over the summer, Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped rebuild the destroyed parts of the castle. Because of everyone’s efforts, the Hogwarts was able to reopen on time for the next school year. Hermione was happy she was able to convince the boys to return for their last year with her, even if she had to put up with their whining and asking for help with their homework. Her relationship with Ron was going just fine, and Ginny was thrilled she was going to be able to spend the year at school with Harry, sneaking around like young lovers do. Hermione couldn’t have been happier for them, and even Ron had gotten over his best friend being with his sister. After a summer of romance with Ron, she felt anxious to experience more of the adult world. 

The weeks went by quickly with nothing worth mentioning. Studying, writing essay's, attending quidditch matches. Truth be told, it was almost boring with no chaos, no mystery. During the beginning of the year, she wondered how Harry, Ron, and Ginny felt about Professor Snape, as none of them had made any comment at all upon learning he was back to teach potions. It felt like a sore subject, to be honest. He returned looking almost exactly the same as he always had, a thin frame draped in heavy black robes and a sour expression on his face. Over the first term, Ron told her Ginny was still holding a grudge because of what they all had to suffer through the school year before with the Carrows, but Harry kept his feelings well hidden. She suspected his feelings were quite complicated, and he was likely confused about them.

Professor Snape proved to be far less disagreeable with the war over, but that’s not to say he was a ray of sunshine. No. He simply left them alone, dismissed their existence even. There were no snide comments to break up the monotony of daily classes, no detentions to fume about. It didn’t sit right with her, but what was there to do about it? That being said, not one of them complained about it. Hermione wondered if he had stayed at the school for winter break or returned to Spinner’s End, where Harry told her he had a home. No wanting to give it anymore thought, she turned to Ron who was currently talking to Harry with a mouth full of sausage.

Christmas had been a few days ago, and it had been a loud affair with them all at the Burrow. She and Harry were spending the break there, as they did not want to stay at Grimmauld place without Ron and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley seemed to think they couldn’t get up to any ‘shenanigans’, as she called it, under her roof. After she went to bed, however, her children would seek into Harry and Hermione's rooms for said shenanigans. 

As the week after Christmas went by, the week she met with Ruby, Hermione felt her anxiety over seeing her again building. By Saturday at seven, she worried she would have a cardiac event before she even got to Ruby’s House. Looking herself over one last time, she decided she would have to be satisfied. The red dress she had chosen was tight with long sleeves and, although classy, was somewhat sexy. Hermione wished she had more curves, but was determined not to fret over things outside of her control. Her hair hung loose in golden brown spirals and she selected a shade of lipstick that matched her dress.

Ron had approached her a few months back wondering if their relationship was exclusive. Hermione wasn’t stupid. She knew very well why he was asking. At first, she was hurt, but when she realized he probably assumed she would only be seeing him while he had other partners, she was offended. It took her nearly two weeks to get over it and see the opportunity in front of her. She had been growing more curious about what else was out there, and just because Ron didn’t think she had it in her to experiment, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try. After making up her mind, she told Ron that she had come around to seeing his point of view. They were young, and if they wanted their relationship to last, they had to ‘sow their wild oats’. Ultimately, she decided he was, in fact, right. She loved him and did want to be with him. She also knew she didn’t want to feel she missed out twenty years from now, even if he hadn’t really meant he wanted that for her and not just for himself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Sarah, I’m so glad you came,” Ruby said taking her by the arm to escort her inside. 

Hermione was immediately overwhelmed by the amount of attendants. Groups of conversing people were everywhere. The luxury of the room was almost lost in the crowd. Most men were in suits or formal wizarding attire, and the women were dress similarly to her, thank Merlin! She felt slightly silly, worrying she was going to walk in on some sordid orgy. Rolling her eyes at herself, she followed Ruby to a group of people near the piano, which was playing all by itself. 

Ruby introduced her to the people standing there sipping on their drinks. A man with dark blue robes had kissed the back of her hand, and one woman gave her a rather friendly hug. Hermione’s attention, however, was on the man sitting in an armchair by the fireplace across the room. She watched him in flashes as people passed back and forth between them. He was conversing with the man sitting in the chair on the other side of the fire, but he appeared to be doing most of the listening. She couldn’t help but be taken with the man for some reason. He was dressed in all black. Black suit, black trousers, black shoes, black tie, black mask, black hair even. This skin was a stark contrast, creamy and smooth, cleanly shaven. A feeling washed over her she couldn’t quite recognize. It was somewhere between suspicion and intrigue. She hadn’t even notice the people Ruby had been talking to walk over toward the refreshments.

Hermione was startled when she felt something touch her shoulder. Ruby had rested her head on it from behind, her hair tickling Hermione’s neck, her breasts pressing into her back. “Ah,” Ruby said. “So that’s who has your attention.”

“No, I was just...” Hermione tried to excuse her inattentiveness while a blush crept up into her cheeks but came up short.

Hermione was still watching the man, and as Ruby tuned her head toward her, he looked over in their direction. “That’s Sebastian,” she said with her lips on Hermione's ear. The man raised a dark eyebrow ever so slightly at her when she didn’t look away from his gaze immediately. Perhaps he wasn't used to that. “I have more people I’d like you to meet, though. Come on,” she said taking Hermione’s hand, their eye contact lost as Ruby turned her toward the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only just figured out how to use 3d paint. I'm not very good at using it. Their heads look so odd.


	2. A Front Row Seat

An hour later, Ruby left her to mingle, and Hermione found herself in conversation with a curvy twenty-something woman called Tiffany, whose nails were painted with blue fluttering butterflies. “Ruby told me that man over there by the fire goes by Sebastian. Do you know him?” she asked hoping the girl would be able to tell her something about him, anything at all.

The woman smiled and looked over in his direction. “Yes. That’s Sebastian. I wouldn’t say that I know him, though. He’s been coming every weekend for a few months now, but supposedly, he used to come here frequently a few years back. He probably had a girlfriend who didn’t want to share,” she shrugged. "It happens all the time." 

“Have you any idea what he likes, what he’s interested in?” Hermione asked trying not to sound too interested. 

“Oh he’s a dominant, obviously. Aside from that, no. He’s only rented a room here twice since he started coming back around here, that I know of,” she explained with a look of indifference on her face.

“Well what were they like?” Hermione asked. “The women he went off with?” she clarified. 

Tiffany switched hands holding her drink and pointed, “See that Colombian woman over there, Rosa? She was one of them.” Hermione looked over to see a full figured woman who may as well have been dipped in caramel for how perfectly delicious her skin was. “And Annabelle. That tiny little blonde thing over by the pool table.” Hermione was a little confused looking from Miss Colombia to an extremely short version of a runway model. “So if he has a ‘type’ your guess is as good as mine what it is,” she said taking a sip of her champagne. 

“What does he do here then if he rarely gets together with anyone?” she questioned.

Smiling in his direction, Tiffany answered, “He watches. Has two drinks. Sometimes talk with another dom. He’s looking this way now, actually.”

Hermione glanced over toward him and caught his eye again. He didn’t look away but took a slow shallow sip of his amber colored drink. In that moment, she was sure she wanted him, but she wasn’t sure why exactly. Perhaps it was because he seemed a mystery, seemed hard to catch. She always was one for a challenge. “He doesn’t talk to any of the women here?”

“I’ve never seen him approach a single one, and subs don’t usually make the first move aside from eye contact and body language,” she said frowning and adjusting the strap on her dress. "Before I found out he took up a room with Rosa, I thought he might be gay." 

Hermione was confused. “So how did he end up with those two women, then?”

Tiffany admitted, “I don’t know, actually. I didn’t see it. I only heard about it afterwards. And neither of them will give up any details,” she said with a sour expression. “They only said they enjoyed their evenings. He must have paid them to keep their traps shut.”

“I see,” she said finally looking away from the smoldering coals staring her down from across the room. 

“There you are, Sarah,” Ruby interrupted as she came to stand next to Hermione. “What have you girls been chatting about?”

Tiffany laughed, “Sebastian.” She nudged Hermione with an elbow. “She’s been quite inquisitive about him.” Hermione took a drink out of her wineglass to hide her embarrassment. 

“I see. Perhaps I’ll introduce you later. Well, if you’ll excuse us, Tiff, I have to finish showing Sarah around,” Ruby smiled taking Hermione’s hand. 

Surprised, Hermione blurted, “It was nice meeting you.” She glanced back toward the fireplace as Ruby pulled her in the opposite direction and found him watching her again. He’s probably staring at you because you are staring at him, you loon, she scolded herself. Hermione let Ruby lead her through a doorway on the far right side of the room and was surprised to be standing in a large kitchen. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Ruby asked, her eyes sparkling almost as much as the glistening white counters. This room did remind her of Malfoy Manor. “I’m sorry if I pulled you away from an interesting conversation, but I just couldn’t risk you leaving without helping you figure out some of those questions you have about yourself and what you enjoy.” She stepped into Hermione's space, breast nearly touching as she set her glass on the counter behind Hermione. 

“Oh,” Hermione said blushing slightly. “Well, I’m not even sure what questions I have at this point. I think I’m still in the observing stage.”

Ruby drew Hermione to her with a hand behind her neck and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth without preamble. Hermione’s insides squirmed feeling the woman’s soft lips making love to hers. Gods, if this was what it was like to kiss a woman, any woman, she would have to forgive all the boys she’d ever known for behaving so insanely. Before Hermione could wrap her mind around Ruby kissing her, the woman slid down her body, her hands trailing down her sides, until she was crotch level. 

Ruby’s hands found the bottom hem of Hermione’s dress and pushed it upwards to her hips. Gasping, Hermione leaned forward, resting a hand on Ruby’s shoulder for purchase as her knees trembled. Ruby’s hands pushed Hermione’s black lacy panties to the side, and she leaned forward, quickly slithering her tongue between her folds. 

It all happened so fast that Hermione didn’t have time to think about the fact that she’d never had a woman go down of her before. She hadn’t been expecting it, but no complaint crossed her mind. Her soft muscle nudged at her clit over and over. Ruby had her panting and weaving her hand in her silky blond tresses within seconds. “Oh, God!” she breathed just before Ruby leaned back on her heels and looked up at her with smeared lipstick on her face. Don't stop, her mind screamed.

Ruby stood up and charmed her lipstick back in order. “I think, perhaps we should get a room,” she suggested as she pushed Hermione’s dress back down. As she did so, Hermione was alarmed to feel her pushing her lacy underwear down as well. “Lift up,” she said tapping on Hermione’s right calf. “I fancy having these,” she explained. 

Hermione stood there staring at the gorgeous woman. Was she for real? Who demands someone’s knickers? The stern look that followed her reluctance made Hermione’s insides flutter. Apparently, Ruby was not accustomed to being denied… women’s panties. She stepped out of them, one leg at a time and watched as Ruby tucked the thin little piece of material, which was surely wet, between her breasts. Speechless, Hermione allowed Ruby to lead her by the hand back out of the kitchen and into the crowd of people. While that had certainly been pleasurable, even if unexpected, she was now in need of release. 

Several people starred at them as they walked by, though it was not the mocking stare she had grown used to over the years. Ruby escorted her right past Sebastian, and he glanced up at her briefly, apparently not as entertained as the rest of the crowd. Hermione felt several pairs of eyes on her until Ruby had her down a hallway with several doors. Once inside the last door on the left, she backed Hermione up against the door to assault her lips once more. 

Ruby pulled away suddenly, and a wicked smile crossed her face. “I just had the most delicious idea, Love.”

Did she even want to know? Hermione felt like she was being tugged in all sorts of directions, but most of all, she just wanted release. She wasn't sure what was worse, that she was starting to think Ruby was crazy, or that part of her didn't give a shit if she was. “What?” she asked almost whining.

“Why don’t we ask Sebastian if he wants to watch?” she smiled and grabbed one of her Hermione’s breasts roughly. 

“What?” Hermione spluttered. “That sounds…embarrassing. I've never done this before, and what if he says no? I’d never be able to look at him again.” She was quite unsettled at the possibility of his rejection, even though he was a complete stranger. She hadn’t done all of her research yet, and Ruby was trying to convince her it would be a hoot to take the test prematurely! Who would do such a thing? 

Ruby nodded thoughtfully. “How about this: you stay here and wait for me. I will go out there and ask him if he wants to join us or perhaps I won’t. When I come back, the only way you’ll know if I even asked is if he is with me. That way it isn’t even you asking. It’s me,” she offered cupping Hermione’s sex, and rubbing firmly. If she was trying to distract her with sexual stimulation, it was working.

“Ok,” she breathed. 

“Fantastic,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

Hermione looked around and noted the room looked exactly like a hotel room. There were a few chairs, a couch, a large bed, and a bathroom off to the side near the door. She took the opportunity to freshen up, and when she stood in front of the mirror and looked at her own reflection, she nearly shrieked. Ruby’s lipstick was a messy stain on her face and…on her neck! When had that even happened? Good Gods, no wonder everyone was staring. Shit- what must they think? 

She had no choice but to shrug it off, they were probably jealous anyway. It had become apparent to her that Ruby was a dominant woman, not hesitant at all to take exactly what she wanted. Hermione found it attractive. It was a nice change to be desired that way. She should have expected as much about the woman. Wait. Did that make her a submissive? 

Ruby returned rather quickly and asked Hermione if she was almost done in the bathroom through the door. Hermione emerged a few minutes later, after she had tried her best to calm her nerves. Padding out into the room with her shoes dangling from one hand, she noted that Ruby was the only other person in the room. She had figured he would turn down the offer, but she felt slightly disappointed even if her nerves disagreed with her. She’d never been with another woman before, and she really didn’t need an audience for the occasion.

Standing from the chair, Ruby said, “Up on the bed, Honey.” She watched her intently as Hermione complied. “No. I want you on your knees. Kneel over here facing me,” she instructed as she moved to stand at the foot of the bed. “Good. You need to choose a safe word before we get started.”

Until that moment, Hermione hadn’t been afraid so much as she was nervous. The term itself implied the possibility of danger, and she wasn’t used to giving over control. “Quibbler,” she told Ruby. That would be something that never came out of her mouth accidentally and almost never in general. 

“Quibbler,” she repeated. “Okay, arms up,” she instructed. Hermione hesitated before lifting her arms over her head. Ruby magically secured them together with a conjured rope, and attached it to the top frame of the bed, giving her arms enough slack to bend slightly at the elbows. 

“He said no. Didn’t he?” she asked. She wanted to know even if she didn’t want to know.  


Ruby looked up at her with a smirk. “He said he needed to refill his drink.” 

A knock sounded three times at the door, and Hermione’s heart continued the steady rhythm after it let up. Her mouth had gone dry within a matter of seconds, and she felt like running as she watched Ruby answer the call. She could hear the door open, but because of the layout, could not see more than the slightest bit of Ruby’s back. She heard a deep voice speak so softly she couldn’t make out the words. Ruby turned back into the room, and her mystery man in black followed closely behind her. 

What the hell had she been thinking coming to a place like this? What had she been thinking following a strange woman into a private room for sex? She had only slept with three people before. There was Ron, of course, then Dean after she had accepted Ron’s proposal of an open relationship, and a third person, who shall remain nameless because it had been an act of rebellion, on both of their parts, rather than a mutual attraction. In any event, she was feeling ill prepared for this evening. 

Unable to keep her eyes off of his, she hadn’t notice an armchair was moved to the foot of the bed until he was standing in front of her. His cologne nearly made her swoon. It was smoky and dark, but not so heavy as to make her gag. There was an indistinguishable underlying spice to it, something akin to clove but sweeter.

As he sat back in the chair, a short glass appeared in his hand out of nowhere. Bourbon, if she had to venture a guess. Hermione continued looking at him while Ruby climbed up on the bed behind her, taking a handful of her hair and pulling her head to the side, so she could suckle on the exposed skin of her neck. 

“Sarah seems to be quite taken with you, Sebastian,” Ruby said between kisses. 

Hermione felt heat creep up her chest into her cheeks. Sebastian’s mouth twitched at her announcement, and he rubbed the middle finger and thumb of his free hand together. When Hermione felt Ruby’s body against hers, she leaned her head back on the other woman’s shoulder. A small moan escaped her as one of her nipples was teased through her dress into a stiff bud. Ruby moved both hands down toward the bottom of her dress and pulled it up slowly until it rested high on her thighs, just barely covering her naked sex. Sebastian’s eyes followed her hands back up to Hermione’s breasts. She could almost feel his eyes caressing her.

“I think Sebastian wants to see what you have hiding under this pretty dress,” she whispered as she tugged the top of her off-the-shoulder dress down until her bra was completely visible. Hermione moaned as Ruby pinched both nipples through her lacy bra. Sebastian’s eyes stayed on her chest for several seconds before coming back up to meet hers. His brows pinched together, and she couldn’t tell if he was displeased or contemplating something. Ruby’s hands slithered back down to her legs and slipped under her dress on their way up, exposing her nether bits whether she was ready for it or not. And she wasn’t ready. Not at all.

Sebastian’s eyes were still trained on her face, but when she moaned at Ruby brushing her wet lips, they slowly navigated her body until they rested on her sex. Hermione had never felt so self conscience before, and she tried to draw her legs together. Ruby must have secured them to the bed without her noticing because they wouldn’t budge. For the first time, Hermione wished she kept her bush natural and wild, so she had a place to hide. She was all smooth skin, save for a small strip in the front her bikini easily covered.


	3. An Unexpected Party Favor

Ruby worked Hermione’s clit into a tight bundle of tension within minutes. With her eyes closed and her head leaning back, Hermione pulled down against her arm restraints, the urge to curl up overwhelming. She wanted release, but Ruby denied her, stopping her movements at the peak of her pleasure. Her hand abandoned Hermione’s clit and wandered around to her back. Her head snapped forward and her eyes opened upon feeling Ruby unclasping her strapless bra. As it fell away, she saw Sebastian’s jaw twitch, but he remained otherwise unfazed by the show Ruby was giving him. Their eyes were locked on to one another until the blonde drew their attention away from their fleeting connection.

With a snap of her fingers, something clanked and jingled behind her. Hermione saw Ruby’s hand come around her and toss some sort of chain into Sebastian’s lap. He looked down at the object, seeming to contemplate it before ultimately picking it up. Ruby went back to tweaking one of her nipples while she lavished the side of her neck with wet kisses. Sebastian leaned forward picking up the item in his lap and it gave Hermione's heart a jolt. She wanted him to touch her and badly. Perhaps now he would.

Ruby pinched her nipple hard and twisted it painfully. Hermione hissed and closed her eyes. When Ruby’s hand disappeared from her breast, she felt a sharp pinch on her stiffened bud, and it caused her to look down. Ruby had already moved on to her other nipple, and Hermione whimpered as she watched Sebastian put the other clamp in place without laying a finger on her. The clamps were tight enough not to come off accidentally, and they were connected by a ‘y’ shaped chain, the tail of it still in Sebastian’s grasp as he leaned back in his chair. Ruby had deemed him the master of her reins. 

A perfectly manicured hand made its way between Hermione's legs from behind her and began to rub small circles on her swollen and ready clit, while the other rested on the fabric bunched at her hip. “Ahhh,” she whined as she felt a stinging sensation shoot through her nipples. Sebastian smirked at her surprise, and he tugged again with minimal effort, his arms resting on the arms of the chair, chain entwined in the fingers of one hand, his drink in the other. She allowed her eyes to wander over him, and the erection straining aggressively against his trousers satisfied her desire for his approval, even if she couldn’t otherwise get a read on him. Ruby began to slowly pump her fingers in and out of her, her other hand now servicing her clit from the front. A few tugs on the chain and flicks to her clit, and Hermione was desperate to cum.

“Are you ready?” Ruby asked, her voice dripping with seduction.

Hermione thought she was asking her, but Sebastian hummed and nodded his head. The thought of the two of them conspiring against her was frightening, even if it was for her own pleasure. Sebastian stood and walked around to the side of the bed, and Hermione felt the restraints disappear. If Ruby hadn’t wrapped a hand around her waist, she would have fallen face first onto the floor. Hermione followed Ruby’s lead, and climbed off of the bed, both of them now standing a few feet in front of him. The blonde squatted and jerked on Hermione's dress until it was in a puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it hesitantly, realizing she was now fully naked while neither of them had removed a single stitch of clothing. 

Sebastian had taken a seat on the couch and had set his glass down on the side table. She had no idea what Ruby had in store for her, but she hoped it involved him touching her, or at least allowing her release. With her inner thighs glistening, she took Ruby’s hand and followed her over to the couch where Sebastian carefully removed the clamps from Hermione’s nipples. The blood rushed back into them causing a burst of pain that let her panting. Her body wanted to collapse at his feet, kneel before him. She fought it though. It was too desperate, not like her at all. 

“I want you to sit on Sebastian’s lap,” she told her. Hermione searched him with her eyes, but he gave away nothing. She turned to the side and was about to do as she was told when Ruby grabbed her arm and turned her to face forward squarely. She pushed gently, indicating Hermione was now where she wanted her. Ruby grabbed her wrists as she lowered herself onto his lap. She was too far forward to feel any more of him than the thighs under her bum. 

Hermione gasped as Sebastian’s long fingered hands wrapped around the sides of her waist and pulled her back until she was flush against his torso. His hands were large but elegant, his nails neat and clean. They were so unlike Ron’s. The bulge in his pants felt as big as it looked, and she immediately wanted to grind herself into it, but she refrained. Ruby placed her hands under Hermione’s knees and lifted her legs, putting them back down on the outsides of Sebastian’s thighs. 

His legs weren’t spread crudely, but Hermione was unused to having someone view her in such a way. Ruby was now on her knees and stroking the tops of Hermione’s thighs. Sebastian slid one hand from her hip to her lower abdomen leaving his palm flat against her to keep her in place, while his other hand came up to brush her curls to one side, apparently not wanting to be suffocated by her mane. 

Ruby pushed their legs further apart, and Sebastian assisted in opening her wide while he leaned the side of his face against her, his lips hovering by her ear. His hair felt soft against her neck. It was about shoulder length, not uncommon for a wizard. It seemed that the older the wizard, the longer the hair. There were exception, of course, but judging by his hair alone, Hermione guessed him to be middle aged or younger. Before she could think too much about what Sebastian might be like in his day to day life, Ruby buried her face between her legs, causing Hermione’s body to try to turn inward. 

Sebastian’s grip remained firm, and his legs kept hers open in spite of her body’s natural resistance. She felt Ruby push two fingers in her as she sucked mercilessly on her aching pearl. Hermione was on the cusp once again when Ruby pulled away.

“I seem to have lost my manners,” Ruby said frowning. She reached up and grabbed Hermione’s hand and brought it down to her sex. “Touch yourself for me,” she commanded. 

Hermione could feel Sebastian tilting his head to look down between her legs over her shoulder. Hermione fingers found her clit immediately.

“Tut-tut,” Ruby disapproved and moved Hermione’s hand lower. “Get them nice and wet for me,” she stated. “That’s it,” she said as Hermione pushed two fingers into herself. Ruby took her wrist and pulled it away. Hermione was confused by this odd sort of torture until Ruby told her, “Offer that to our guest.” She went back to tending to Hermione’s building need leaving her with her wet fingers in front of her. 

Hermione groaned at the sensation between her legs while she stared at her shining fingers. She couldn’t just offer up her womanly fluid as some sort of finger food at a party. It just seemed so vulgar. Apparently, Sebastian didn’t agree because his free hand quickly wrapped around her dainty wrist and drew it up to her shoulder where he was nuzzled against her neck. Warm, wet, pillowy softness engulfed her fingers, and a moan escaped her to match the one she felt rumbling through him, sending a surge to her clit. Sebastian and Ruby sucked hard as she rode out her orgasm. 

Hermione lay limp against Sebastian as Ruby leaned back on her heels. Sebastian nudged her to get up before she had even caught her breath completely, and Ruby stood. Sliding off him onto the cushion next to them, she watched Ruby lead him to the door. Sebastian leaned over, muttered something in Ruby’s ear, kissed her cheek, and left the two women alone in the room. 

She couldn’t help feeling disappointed he had left, but she knew she was lucky he had even joined them in the first place. Ruby smiled at her on her way back over. She sat on the couch next to her and said, “You can get dressed now if you’d like.”

Hermione nodded and retrieved her dress and bra. She fastened her bra, and was pulling her dress up over her hips when she asked, “What did he say? When he left, I mean.” She wasn’t sure if she was out of place asking, but she wanted to know.

“Oh,” Ruby’s eye brows shot up, but then she shrugged. “He just thanked me for your panties. I thought he might like them. I hope you don’t mind.” A wicked grin appeared on her face as Hermione chewed on her bottom lip trying to figure out if that freaked her out or turned her on. “So…Do you think you’ll be back?”

Yes! “Probably,” she told Ruby. “I enjoyed my evening. Thank you for showing me around. And for this,” she said waving her hand around to indicate all that had occurred in the room. 

Ruby laughed, and the low sexy rumble she emitted shot through Hermione. “The pleasure was all mine. Well, perhaps Sebastian’s too. He doesn’t usually participate when he comes here,” she said looking thoughtful. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get him to agree to watch us?” Hermione asked even more curious about the mysterious man.

Ruby considered her for a moment before responding. “I shoved your knickers in his breast pocket and offered him a taste to think about later when he’s got them fisted around his cock.” Hermione’s eyes went wide. “I am the owner, though, so you have to take that into consideration. Although everyone has the right to say no to me, no one ever does.”

Hermione nodded and put her shoes back on. Ruby escorted her to the front door and kissed both of her cheeks. She told her she hoped to see her again next weekend but that she would be left to her own devises. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Arriving back at the burrow at nearly eleven thirty, Hermione was surprised to see Ron sitting at the kitchen table hunched over a cup of tea. 

“Where’ve you been?” he asked quietly.

“I went out,” she responded simply and shrugged. 

He made a displeased face at her and said, “Dressed like that?”

“Yes. I’m a girl, Ronald. Sometimes we wear dresses,” she sassed. 

Ron stood from the chair and said as he walked by, “You could have at least mentioned it to, so I didn’t have to worry about you.”

Hermione stood in the kitchen wondering if he had a point. Would she have been worried if he’d left without saying anything and come home late. Probably, but she couldn’t help be feel like it was about his insecurities because he hardly every worried. About anything!

Ron was moody the entire day on Sunday, and he hadn’t cheered up much by the time they all boarded the train to return to school. Hermione left Ron to stew in his misery and found an empty compartment to relax in. After Saturday night, she was exceedingly happy that the returning 8th year students were allowed to leave the grounds on the weekends. She would be able to return to Ruby’s House next weekend. It was going to be so nice to have her own place to get away from her weekly stress. She hoped that Sebastian would be there again next Saturday.

The first week back was agonizing. Nothing seemed to be going her way. She was late to arithmancy because Peeves decided to knock her book bag down the stairs, sending papers flying everywhere, which led to her losing her transfiguration essay. She accidentally spilled an entire bottle of ink on one of her white shirts, and Ron was still acting like a child. To top it all off, Professor Snape seemed to have remembered how much he enjoyed giving her a hard time over winter break. After all was said and done, she’d lost twenty points from Gryffindor in one week.

It was finally Saturday, and she couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the school. Ginny sat on her bed trying to help her transfigure her black dress into something less blasé. She told Gin she was going on a date with someone she met over break. It was quite a stretch, but there was some truth to it. 

“So what’s he like?” she asked Hermione.

Trying to lower the back of her dress, she answered, “Tall. Dark.”

Ginny waved her wand at the back of Hermione’s dress and got the material to dip down her back elegantly. “Well, if a guy is either tall or short, dark or light, then you’ve effectively narrowed him down to a quarter of the male population,” she said tersely. “What else?” 

“Um, he smells nice,” she added poking at the neckline that scooped lower than she was used to wearing. “How am I supposed to wear a bra with this?”

“You’re not. Just apply a sticking charm if you’re worried about the girls coming out to meet him before you’re ready,” the redhead said. 

Hermione went to look at their work in the mirror and realized the scar on her chest was visible. She’d gown accustom to seeing over the last few years and didn’t usually have a reason to think about it because her shirt usually covered it. She cast a glamour charm on it and remembered she hadn’t done that the previous week. She hadn’t even thought of it. While almost no one knew she even had that scar, it wasn’t pretty. Hermione suddenly felt embarrassed thinking that must have been why Sebastian’s eyes lingered on her chest while Ruby uncovered her more sensitive bits. At the time, she had simply thought he liked looking at her breast. She felt foolish, but he didn’t jump up and run away. Perhaps he was more mature than she was giving him credit for. She blamed Ron for that! 

She told Ginny not to wait up for her, and she made her way down to the ground floor. Just as she was about to step off of the bottom stair onto the landing, she caught sight of Professor Snape coming up from the walkway leading to the dungeons, his robes billowing behind him menacingly. Not wanting to add another tally to her list of blunders for the week, she lingered for quite a while before she left the school because he had gone out the front door. The last thing she needed was to make that long walk to the gate with someone who was dead set on punishing her for some fabricated wrongdoing. Finally outside the gate, she transfigured her cloak into a coat that went much better with her attire. She secured her mask in place and disapparated to Ruby’s House.


	4. The Challenge

Hermione checked her coat with the girl at the door and tried not to let her eyes go searching for Sebastian right away. She didn’t want to appear as a stalker, so she went to get a drink at the bar across the room, where a group of nearby girls sucked her into their conversation about lingerie. A little while later, she headed for the restroom. Washing her hands at the sink, she noted how remarkable the mask was. It was plain, and it kept her feature mostly the same, but it obscured them in a way that took away her identity. She was simply Sarah with curly brown hair, brown eyes, and a small frame. Hermione ordered another drink and had just picked up her glass of wine when someone spoke, touching the back of her arm.

“Excuse me,” the man said as he leaned forward and grabbed a short glass off of the bar. “Oh. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Todd,” he said as he offered his hand.

“Sarah,” Hermione said going to shake his proffered hand, but he brought it up to his lips and kissed it instead. Todd was tall and muscular. He had dirty blonde hair and a rugged looking beard. She hoped her blush wasn’t too obvious.

He smiled at her and leaned an elbow on the bar. “You’re new here. Aren’t you?” he asked. He shook a finger at her and added, “Yeah, I think I saw Ruby giving you the grand tour last week. So how do you like the place?”

“I made some friends. I enjoyed myself enough to come back,” she told him with a shrug and offered him a small smile. While he was handsome, or at least the glamour on his mask was, she really wanted to find Sebastian. 

“Oh, it certainly looked like you did. Was that Ruby’s lipstick all over you? Merlin, I would have given anything to see that,” he said as he stood up straight. “Come on, let me introduce you to some of my friends.”

Hermione already wasn’t sure about this guy. He seemed crass, and that was not attractive to her in the least. She could let him lead her around a bit, though, and she would be able to look for Sebastian without being too obvious. “Okay. Thank you,” she said and held her hand out indicating she would follow if he led the way.

Todd seemed to take that as an invitation to hold her hand, however, and walked around the crowd in the opposite direction of the fireplace. For the next twenty minutes or so, she was introduced to countless people and she had removed his hand from her arm, back, and shoulder. She was about to ditch him, but he pointed to a woman standing ten feet in front of Sebastian. She couldn’t see more than a leg as there were several people in the way. As they got closer, she was sure it was him, but she avoided making eye contact. Hermione stood with her profile exposed to him, and made small talked with the plump woman. She seemed a bit tipsy, and Todd’s hand was on her back once again. The last thing she wanted was for Sebastian to think she was interested in Todd, so she shifted her weight away from him and pretended to compare shoes with the other woman. It was stupid, but so was he, apparently. 

“Oh, that blue is just stunning. I had a pair just like it, but one of the heels ripped off when it got stuck in a crack in the cement,” Melissa told her. “I repaired them, but they were never the same. That heel broke off three more times before I just threw them out.”

Todd walked around and stood between them, making a joke about his fabulous shoes. Before he could get his paws on her, she moved back to stand in front of them, as if to judge the shoes sided by side. This may very well have been the dumbest thing she’d ever done to get a guy’s attention. She wanted to deck Todd but didn’t think that would come across as inviting. Glancing to the side, she was disappointed to see Sebastian’s seat was now empty. She hadn’t looked directly at him even once. Her plan was to approach him later. Alone. Without Todd the Toad hanging off of her. 

“Oh, look! It’s Jason. You’re going to love him,” he said as he put his hand on her lower back to nudge her in the direction his buddy was in. “He’s hilarious.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to let you go say hello to him without me. I need to find my friend,” Hermione told him with a feigned frown.

Todd shook his head and waved his glass in front of her. “It’ll only take a second,” he insisted. 

“There you are,” a silky deep voice said behind her as she felt a gentle hand touch her back. It was just that and nothing more. No groping, no lingering, just the standard, I’d like to get your attention, kind of thing that was perfectly acceptable in her view. Whoever this was ought to teach Todd a lesson in manners. 

Todd looked surprised when he turned back to her and noticed someone had come up to them. She was surprised as well, when she turned around, and Sebastian was standing there. He was taller than Todd, and even though he was much thinner, he had a commanding presence that was quite impressive.

“I arranged that room you asked for last week,” he purred while holding up a gold key with a blue ribbon on it. His voice was low and sultry, and it made her stomach quiver, anticipation building up in her gut.

Hermione’s mouth fell open and then snapped shut. “Yes.” She said simply. Shaking away her shock, she added. “I was just about to come looking for you.” She turned back to Todd. “It’s been lovely meeting all of your friends. Perhaps I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Sure,” he said dejectedly before disappearing in the crowd. 

Hermione took Sebastian’s hand and followed him through the crowd to the hallway lined with doors. Sebastian’s hand had long dexterous fingers, and his grip was gentle. They continued walking all the way to the back and made a right. Hermione hadn’t notice it wrapped around this way before. She thought there was only the twelve or so room she could see from the main area down this way. He’d let her hand go as soon as they’d rounded the corner. They turned yet another corner, and Hermione was in awe of this house. There had to be dozens of extension charms on the place. 

Finally they stopped at the last door on the left side of the hall. Sebastian opened the door and held it open for her. Although this was not how she planned on the evening going, she couldn’t really complain. It had been nice of him to rescue her from Todd, even though it was unnecessary, but she wasn’t under the delusion that he wanted to share a room with her otherwise. He followed her in, and walked straight to the chair on the far side of the room to sit. 

“Thank you,” she said as she moved to sit in the other chair. “Listen. I understand if you don’t want to do anything,” she told him glancing at the bed.

Sebastian leaned forward in the chair, his hair following his forward movement. “What makes you think I don’t want to do anything to you?” he asked in a rich, homey voice that held a level of familiarity that she couldn’t quite place. Whatever the reason was that she felt a sense of déjà vu with Sebastian, she would have to think about it later.

“Oh. Well, I-” she stumbled over her words trying to fight off the blush she felt coming. “It’s just…the other girls, they said…”

“What did the other girl’s say?” asked quietly, his dark eyes intently focused on her.

Crap. She just stuck her foot in her mouth. “Just that you don’t usually take a room. That’s all,” she answered honestly. 

“Ah. Well, I assure you, there are many things I’d like to do to you. For now, there’s a matter I think we should discuss, however,” he said seriously.

Not sure what he was talking about, she asked, “What would that be?” She desperately wanted to know the things he wanted to do to her. 

“You have no business being here if you cannot assert yourself to a handsy cretin,” he stated matter-of-factly as he lifted his chin.

That certainly wasn’t what she had been expecting. His voice was soft and soothing, but is judgment wasn’t fair. Not fair at all considering she tolerated Todd in an effort to find and perhaps intrigue Sebastian enough to approach her. She most certainly could have dealt with Todd on her own and would have if he hadn’t interrupted them. Her mouth fell open, but before she could argue her case, he continued. 

“It’s obvious you are a naive little girl who ought to go home and not return until you have learned to take care of yourself,” he advised. 

She scoffed at him. “I most certainly am old enough to be here. I have just as much right as you do, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Were you under the impression that this place is safe?” He asked sitting back in the chair. “This is not a place for children. There are adult consequence here, weather you’re ready to face them or not,” he stated as if it should offend her. “Don’t you know it is unwise to go off with strangers? You have no idea what their intentions may be,” he warned.

Hermione was so confused. How could this go from her seeking him out, to him offending her so quickly? He certainly hadn’t had any problems with her being there last weekend. “You don’t know anything about me. Keep your judgment to yourself.” She stood and started to walk around the bed to get to the door like any Gryffindor would. She wasn’t about to let him lecture her for his amusement. 

“You think you’re ready for this?” he asked more loudly than he had just been speaking. “If you are saying you consciously allowed that man to grope you in public, than any decent dominant partner would already have you over his knee right now, punishing you for allowing another man to touch you.” She looked at him defiantly, and he smirked at her. “If that’s the case…” he patted his leg and quirked an eyebrow.

It was a challenge. That much was obvious. Was he serious, or was this his idea of foreplay? She wasn’t sure, to be honest. She certainly hopped for the latter because she was still painfully attracted to him. Hermione walked back around to stand in front of him. She wasn’t about to be scared off by him antics. 

Sebastian sat with his legs apart. He lifted his arms out of her way, so she could throw herself down for his punishment. Glancing at his generic, dark featured face, she felt her stomach drop. She bent down and laid her torso across his spread thighs. His hands came down on her back. Fisting her hair in one hand, he drew up the hem of her skirt with the other. The cool air prickled her flesh.

He went straight for her panties. No soothing caresses or any other comfort to ease her nerves about being in this position with him. Tugging them down, he said, “You seem so sure of yourself. I could be anyone wanting to do any number of things to you, and here you are offering yourself so freely, so foolishly.” As soon as he got them free from her legs, his hand came back with the material and rubbed her bare cheeks. “You think the mask protects you. You think the anonymity is freeing, but you don’t see how dangerous it is. Do you?”  


Hermione didn’t answer him. She was blushing and thankful not to be facing him. She felt his hand work its way between her legs, and push her furthest leg outward, opening her for whatever he intended. “There are many ways to identify someone. Have you not considered someone might recognize you in spite of the charms on the mask?” He was right. Upon first meeting Ruby she had been concerned about safety. She had been concerned about death eaters. Oh, gods! The thought that Sebastian may have been one hadn’t crossed her mind. No, she told herself. He wasn’t, and the things he was saying were to get her on edge. “Quibbler. That’s my safe word,” she said starting to feel anxious.

“How fascinating,” is all he said before he rubbed two fingers between her damp folds, the material of her panties brushing her inner thighs. “If you can’t handle this, then you may as well stay home next weekend and play with your dolls,” he said softly. His voice was velvet, and it puts her at ease in spite of his comment. “I’ll need you to hold these for me,” he said. 

Hermione felt him push into her slightly. It felt strange, like the material was wrapped around his finger. “Uh,” she exhaled awkwardly as she felt him pushing into her again, the rough fabric abrading her most delicate skin. The moisture she’d had before was now gone, and it left her chafing. By the time he let up, her hole felt like it was burning from the coarseness of the stitched design in her panties. She had never experienced that before. It was oddly arousing. The pleasurable pulsing she felt was deep inside, as opposed to in her clit, which she tended to focus on most of the time. The feeling was so peculiar. She felt full, yet also felt like nothing was there. 

“Ah-“ she gasped as his hand came down hard on bare ass. Hermione had been spanked a few times in the heat of the moment, but she really hadn’t thought it was anything special. Granted, she hadn’t been over a sexy stranger’s lap with her knickers stuffed inside of her, but she didn’t feel like it added much of anything to her enjoyment. He spanked her several more times in rapid succession causing her eyes to water and her breathing to become heavy. Her ass was on fire, and the burning between her legs was starting to get to her. 

“Tell me you’re sorry for letting that filth touch you,” he demanded.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered as he continued to smack the same spot of stinging flesh over and over again.

“You will call me Sir, or you will get extra swats,” he growled at her.

Almost crying, Hermione said, “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Harder and harder, he struck her naked flesh, until she was nearly ready to beg him to stop. It hurt so badly, she gave in to the urge to cry. He stopped shortly after that, and rubbed his hand over her fiery flesh, causing further pain. She hissed and arched her back trying to escape his touch. 

“Did you enjoy that?” he asked her while he continued to handle her battered posterior. A low rumble rolled through him with a small laugh.

She whimpered. “No, Sir.”

“Good. You aren’t supposed to enjoy punishments,” he informed her. “And you will call me Sir from now on. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” she sniffled.

Slipping his hand down, he rubbed over her raw pussy firmly until his fingers were slick with moisture. Hermione rocked her hips into his hand. The tears had stopped, but her bum was still painful. She felt him reach back with his other hand and probe at her entrance as he continued to rub her clit. “Uh-uh,” she breathed as he forced the tips of his fingers inside her. It burned, but it felt good at the same time. Her clit was pulsing, and she moaned loudly as she felt him pull his fingers out, tugging on the fabric. He continued pulling until it was free. Hermione felt him rub the wadded up ball of cloth over her before removing his hands from her completely.

“Get up,” he commanded. She obeyed. Standing, her dress fell back down over the lower half of her body. As he stood up, he said, “Think about what I said.” He pulled the blue ribbon with the key out of his pocket and put the wet ball of material in the other. Handing her the key, he said, “You shouldn’t come back here until you do, and you had best not approach me until you’re sure I’m what you want, little girl. Take the key back to the bartender when you leave.” 

Hermione stood there staring after him as he left her alone in the room. Her bum ached. Her vagina burned, and he hadn’t given her release. And he’d taken off with her dirty knickers…again. Over the next fifteen minutes or so, she cleaned herself up in the bathroom. She didn’t want to look a mess when she returned the room key or when she returned to Hogwarts. 

 


	5. Mouthwatering Cupcakes

Hermione lay in bed awake that night thinking about Sebastian and what he had said to her. Had she been foolish to jump in head first at Ruby’s house? She knew going off with someone for a night of casual sex obviously had its risks, but he was right about the anonymity. Not knowing who the other person was, not being able to pick them out in a crowd was a huge gamble. She had only initially seen it as a way to protect her own identity and not something that would keep other people’s identities from her. She had been focused on the one detail she was concerned about and not on the big picture. Sebastian had almost had her admit she couldn’t take anymore of his punishment. What if she had used her safe word, and he hadn’t stopped? What if she had gone off with someone else had no intention of stopping? Were there people like that at Ruby’s House? She had no way of knowing. Perhaps she really didn’t know enough to venture into this new world alone. 

Ruby had mentioned that there were several guards, but surely they didn’t monitor the private rooms very closely. Wouldn’t Ruby have had to disclose something like that to her? She really didn’t like the idea of some unseen third party watching her. Either way, she had left in one piece, and no one was going to convince her she couldn’t take care of herself, even if she didn’t know everything. She may need to learn a little more about navigating the world of sexual adventures, but that’s why she had gone there in the first place. She was determined to return next Saturday, but she wasn’t sure yet what she was going to do about Sebastian. 

The way he had left her made her feel they had unfinished business. He’s said there were a lot of things he would like to do to her, and she wanted to find out what all of those things were. Hermione was not going to just give up on her fixation with him. She had never felt drawn to someone like that before. Even her feelings for Ron grew over time from friendship to something more. She just needed time to regroup, to formulate a plan to entice Sebastian. Tomorrow, she would head into London in search of guidance, in search of answers. She would find a way to prove him wrong.

Hermione walked into the bookstore on the main street in London Sunday afternoon. They had a huge selection, and she headed straight for the adult section. She picked up a few things, including a romance novel with a tall, dark man on the cover holding a woman in a flowing dress. On her way back to Hogwarts, she stopped by a wizarding bookstore in Diagon Alley. She found a book there on unconventional uses of magic in the art of love making, and decided to add it to her purchases. It would be interesting if nothing else. 

Back at the school, she threw the books into her nightstand and joined Ginny in the common room while Harry and Ron played chess. The four of them walked down to dinner together an hour later, and Ron seemed to have finally gotten over her deciding to live her own life. He sat next to her with his arm around her shoulder. Hermione didn’t particularly like sitting like that, but she didn’t want him to feel rejected after he’d just gotten over the blow of the reality of the situation he had created for them. She was listening to Harry tell a story about accidentally vanishing Dudley’s hair when he was six, when she got the prickly sensation that a pair of eyes were on her. 

Looking around, she didn’t see anyone whose attention was focused in her direction, so she went back to eating her potatoes. A few minutes later, she looked around once again, the feeling still not gone. No one seemed to be looking at her, but when she glanced up at the head table, she noticed that Professor Snape was watching the group of them. She sighed and turned back to her food. He sure had a stick up his ass last week, and it didn’t seem like he had pulled it out yet either. This was probably going to be another week like the last with him hovering behind her and hounding her over nothing. 

Ron knocked on her door at almost ten-thirty that night. She’d made Head Girl and was rewarded with her own room. Ginny had congratulated her, but she knew the girl felt like she had missed out on something unfairly. She opened the door and allowed Ron in, checking to make sure no one saw him coming into her room so late. As soon as she closed the door and turned around, Ron leaned forward pinning her to the door. He kissed her with need. She loved it when he took control this way. She dominated him in pretty much every other aspect of their lives, so it felt good to let him lead in the bedroom. It had taken him so long to see that he had feelings for her, that she greedily accepted his forwardness when it came to sex. She felt wanted by him, and that’s all she had ever wanted from him. 

He pushed the waistband of her pants and knickers down, and she stepped out of them, flinging them off to the side with her foot. Ron grabbed one leg, and then the other before picking her up, and wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her over to her bed and flopped down on top of her. As he continued kissing her his hands moved quickly to free his erection from his pants. He wasted no time penetrating her and hurriedly worked himself up to an impressive pace. 

It burned. She was still a little sore from what Sebastian had done to her. Was there something wrong with her for liking the feeling of it burning a little while he fucked her? She wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Sebastian. It would have hurt even more if he had fucked her last night when her skin was the most raw. He was bigger than Ron, and she couldn’t help but think she would have enjoyed it even more for it. She imagined him sitting at home with her soiled knickers around his cock as he stroked himself to completion, his cum dripping down over the silky material. Ruby may have been right, for all she knew. Maybe that was his thing. Maybe that was why he didn’t take a room often. Perhaps he went there to watch and then went home to some sort of filthy panty collection to wank off to. 

Ron rolled off of her onto his back. She hadn’t gotten off. She was far too distracted. Hermione lay there and continued thinking about Sebastian until she heard Ron snore. “Ron,” she nudged him. “Ronald,” she said more loudly. He stirred back awake, and she told him, “You know you can’t stay here. You had better get back to the boys dorm. You wouldn’t want me to lose my private room privilege. Would you?”

“No. Of course not,” he grumbled climbing over her to get off of the bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her goodnight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The foursome took their seats in the potions lab on Wednesday afternoon. It was a large class due to the returning 8th year students. Normally there would only be about fifteen students able to take this course out of all the 7th year students regardless of their house affiliation, but her, Harry, Ron, Malfoy, and two other students who chose to come back were now sitting in the class as well. Hermione and Ginny were at a table near the middle off to the left side of the room, which really irrigated Hermione. Who knew there were so many front row kinds of students in Ginny’s year? Harry and Ron were seated behind them and were whispering among themselves about the last quidditch match. 

Professor Snape was seated at his desk leaning back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest as he watched the students wait for class to begin. Precisely one minute to two, he stood waving the door shut with a snap and announced that they would be taking notes today. The class quietly dug out their quills and parchment from their bags. Hermione shuffled through her notebook to her syllabus then quickly raised her hand. 

Begrudgingly, he said, “Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Sir, it says we are supposed to start the skele-gro potion today on the syllabus,” she informed him.

“I am well aware of what the syllabus says, Miss Granger, as I am the one who wrote it. There happens to be a shortage of foxglove at the present time, so today you will be learning about polyjuice potion. Now, if there are no further unnecessary comments,” he said addressing the class, “we will begin.”

Hermione slumped over her parchment and quill feeling foolish for having said anything at all while Ginny nudged her and shook her head indicating she shouldn’t worry about it. Professor Snape started the lecture with the desired effects of the potion, and Hermione immediately got to work writing down all the detailed information. ‘Effects can last between ten minutes and twelve hours... Allow the drinker to change race, sex, and age but not species.’ Several minutes later, Hermione was listening to him talk about the limitations of the potion. 

“Polyjuice potion is not a fool proof disguise. There are many ways to identify a person without relying on a person’s physical appearance. Legilimency, for example, will reveal one’s true self if occlumency is not employed. The potion does not give the drinker the subject’s mannerisms either. Body language will be up to the drinker to convey accurately, and it is up to the drinker to adjust his or her personality accordingly. If the drinker is much shorter than the subject, their gait may be off. The person may appear to be stumbling around like a baby giraffe or walk into things they would otherwise be able to walk under. The same goes for weight. A thin man may wedge himself into a small space thinking he can fit through, when the person he’s transformed into cannot. He may be trapped until the effects of the potion wear off,” he lectured in his smooth, quiet voice, just as he always did. 

Hermione had stopped listening half way through, however. The timber and silky rhythm of his voice struck her as she was writing the word mannerisms. She looked up at Professor Snape, the formidable presence he was, tall and lean, and very, very dark. Her hand holding her quill began to shake, and as he flicked his wand at the chalk board to make the instructions appear, her eyes were drawn to his hands. His fingers were long and unusually clean for a potions master’s in her opinion. His voice wrapped around her, coiling around her throat, constricting until she thought she might pass out. She had to get out there. Now!

Hermione stood up unexpectedly, nearly knocking over her stool. She didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone, not even Ginny. Abandoning her stuff, she walked straight to the door and through it leaving the lab in the middle of the lecture. Luckily, it was during class time, and there were no students or teachers in the halls. She barely made it out of the dungeons before she started hyperventilating. Unable to climb the many flights of stairs to her room, she darted into the nearest bathroom. 

Professor Snape. Professor Snape. Professor Snape, her mind chanted. Oh, God! It’s him. It has to be. Professor Snape is Sebastian. She was damn sure of it. Oh, he’d seen her naked! He’d tasted her for Merlin’s sake…and he has her underwear…two pairs of her dirty underwear! She let him spank her, like some naughty child. He’d stuffed her knickers inside of her, and although it already seemed a bit dirty, it seemed nearly unspeakable now. Hermione got up on shaky legs and wobbled over to the sink the splash cold water on her face, lest she start heaving. 

He had, at least in his mind, rescued her from Todd, and even tried to warn her that she didn’t know what she was getting herself into. Oh no. No. No. No…she whined as she realized the likelihood that he knew very well who she was. It all made sense now. He had stared at the scar on her chest and could have suspected, or perhaps he even recognized her voice. He may have even used legilimency on her, and she wouldn’t even have known it. It wasn’t a branch of magic taught at school. Hadn’t he just mentioned that in class? Something about it being a way to identify someone. Was he trying to get her to figure it out? It wasn’t likely that he knew who she was before going to the room with her and Ruby, though. He wouldn’t have agreed. Would he? He’d been nasty to her the week after they’d met at Ruby’s. He told her she could be fucking anyone, and she wouldn’t know it. He had known who she was and had still taken her knickers! What had he done with them? Had be burned them, or had he hung them up in his room as some sort of sick Gryffindor Humiliation of the year trophy? Maybe he was trying to scare her off. But then he’d said he wanted to do things to her. No, she shook her head. He was counting on her figuring it out, and he was trying to shoo her away from his weekend getaway. That was all. She had ruined his fun, and he was trying to make sure she stayed away in the future. 

When Ginny showed up knocking at her door after classes, Hermione told her she was ill. She told her she barely made it to the bathroom without puking. She was lucky her friend thought to grab her things before leaving potions, or Hermione would have had to go down there to ask for them back. That would have been out of the question. “So what happened after I left?” she asked, almost not wanting to know the truth.

Ginny said, “Oh! He said it was a pity you left because he was going to have you tell them about what could happen if you attempted a cross species transformation. Then he went on with the lecture like nothing had happened. I’ll bring you back some dinner.”

She groaned remembering the cat hair accident. Soon after Ginny came back with food, she told her she wasn’t feeling well still and wanted to get some sleep. She didn’t show up at meals the next day, but she did attend her classes on time. She couldn’t face him. She wasn’t ready. Friday was the same; however, she had not shown up for potions. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She sat on her floor with her school books around her that afternoon before dinner when there was a knock at her door. When she answered it, she nearly wet herself. Professor Snape stood outside of her door with his arms folded over his chest and a look of displeasure on his face. “Professor!” she squeaked. 

Without saying anything, he walked by her into her room. That couldn’t be allowed. Could it? Male teachers shouldn’t be in head girl’s bedroom. Leaving the door wide open, Hermione turned around to see what he was doing him. 

He stood several feet into her room looking quite peeved. “If you miss one more class, I will drop you. Is that clear?” he asked sternly.

She looked at him in surprise. “Yes, Sir,” she answered looking away from him. 

“As for walking out during my lecture, you will serve detention with Mr. Flich this evening, as well as Saturday even for your unexcused absence in my class today. You will report to him at seven thirty,” he informed her glancing over to the side at the pile of laundry on the bed. “Cupcakes?” he remarked sarcastically with one eye brow lifted slightly. Hermione’s eyes followed his, and seeing a pair knickers with cupcakes printed on them next to the pile made her want to disappear altogether. He turned back to her and gave her the most complex look she’d ever seen from him. It seemed full of anger, but there was fire blazing behind it, smoldering, warning, and devouring her. He swept out of the room as quickly has he appeared at her door. Shutting and locking her door behind him, Hermione sat down on her bed and tried to convince herself that she hadn’t just become aroused. 

The confusing feeling of humiliation and arousal assaulted her when they had looked at her laundry together. She remembered then, that she had practically sat on Professor Snape’s erection. Snape’s penis…something she hadn’t ever once given any thought to until now. Snape’s rather large penis. She had done that to him. Hadn’t she? She had aroused him, weather he wanted to admit it or not. He should feel just as embarrassed. Shouldn’t he? But then, she hadn’t noticed the beast rubbing into her side while he spanked her. Surly punishing her would have been the thing to excite him, if anything. Wouldn’t it? He had told her not to approach him until she was sure he was what she wanted. Did that mean he was willing to be with her again? Did he want her? What was it that he wanted to do to her? It was all too much. 

Feeling the worst was over having been confronted by him already, she decided to go down to dinner with the others. Sitting there, she swore she could feel his eyes on her again, but she wasn’t about to check. She shifted several times on the bench feeling uncomfortable. She was throbbing and she didn’t have enough time to take care of it before she was to meet Filch for her detention. It was for the best anyway. What would she think about if she went to rub one out right now? Sebastian? Snape? No, she shook her head. It was for the best she try to forget about it, at least for now.

She did her best not to dwell on her foolishness while cleaning the bathroom on the fifth floor for detention. There was no use, however, as her mind continued to badger her with questions. Was she attracted to Snape? If she could look past their history together would she see someone as irresistible as Sebastian? What would it have been like to be over his knee knowing it was him? What would he say if she did approach him at Ruby’s? Had he given her detention on Saturday night specifically to prevent her from going? If so, was there some other reason aside from him not wanting a student there with him? She groaned realizing she should have recognized his voice as well as the unique smell of him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Oh, the nipple clamps, she cringed suddenly remembering them. He had sat there, chain in his hand with a smirk on his face. A smirk she was so fucking familiar with. He must have been very amused, the bastard. This thought made her angry. What if he thought this was the perfect way to get revenge against one of his least favorite students. She wasn’t kidding herself. He despised her. She came in second only to Harry for the title of his most annoying student. Fuck, he’d watched, over her shoulder as she’d fingered herself to let him taste her. He seemed to enjoy it though. That low rumble pushed her over the edge. Didn’t it? Imagining Professor Snape telling her how much he loved the taste of her made the ache between her legs return again. It was all so fucked up. What if she was wrong about the panties and the original assumption of Ruby’s was true? Had he wrapped his student’s panties around his cock and rubbed the fabric against himself while he thought about her? 

Hermione was only sure of one thing, and that was that she couldn’t wait for her detention to end. She desperately wanted to return to her room and shove her hand down her knickers.


	6. A Proposal Of Sorts

Over the next several days Hermione’s feelings fluctuated. Part of her felt angry with Professor Snape, the same part of her that felt like a fool, but another part was now even more intrigued by him. She had made up her mind to return to Ruby’s pretty quickly, all things considered. Wednesday’s potions class went by agonizingly slowly. Was he picturing her naked as she sat in his class? She couldn’t get the thought out of her mind. Perhaps it would have been different had she seen him naked as well. She did her best to avoid looking at Professor Snape, lest she turn scarlet and melt into a puddle under her stool. She wasn’t so lucky on Friday, however.

Near the end of class, three jars of ingredients were knocked off of her workstation. She wasn’t even sure how it happened, but it caused her to be the last one left in the room with Professor Snape. He stood leaning against his desk watching her, clearly trying to make her nervous. Why did he have to be such a smug bastard? She smiled to herself as a thought struck her. She had a plan for Saturday finally. She had a plan for Sebastian. While it was certainly the most suicidal plan she’d ever had in all her years at Hogwarts, it felt like the only thing a defiant Gryffindor could do. Hermione slung her bag strap over her shoulder, and headed for the door. Before ducking out she said to Professor Snape, who was still watching her, “I’ll see tomorrow night, Sir.”

She regretted not being able to see his reaction, but ‘operation piss Snape off’ was now in motion. Hermione went straight to her room to look through those books she had bought. As excited as she was about going back to Ruby’s, she was also nervous. She still wanted Sebastian, but somehow knowing he was Snape made her feel inadequate. It was definitely a consequence of suffering under his tutelage over the years. She had admitted it to herself two nights ago when she found herself fantasizing about Professor Snape fucking her against the shelves in the storage room. Her lust for him had come on so quickly it left her dizzy. She only made it part of the way through one of the books because she couldn’t stop thinking about Professor Snape doing some of those things to her….and as himself, not as Sebastian. Where these some of the things he wanted to do to her? Gods she hoped so. Then again, he had probably been lying about that just to freak her out. 

Saturday evening, Hermione took out the same black dress she wore two weeks before and transfigured it to be more flowing and less revealing. She put her hair up and dug out the pearl necklace her mother had given her for Christmas during her fourth year. She checked the time and hurried out of her room and down several flights of stairs until she stood on the first floor. Hermione ducked around the corner in the hallway that led to the kitchens and waited. Her heart sped up when she saw Professor Snape come sweeping up from the dungeons. She set off behind him and caught up to him as he reached the end of the pavement leading up to the school.

“Good evening, Sir,” she said stepping up beside him. 

Professor Snape stopped dead in his tracks and stared down at her with irritation written all over his face. “Go back inside, Miss Granger. I’m sure your boyfriend is looking for you.”

“Ron? Actually, no. I think he’s off with some other girl,” she told him honestly and set off toward the gate without him.

“Where do you think you are going?” he demanded catching up to her quickly.

“Same place as you, I reckon,” she answered.

He walked besides her practically fuming. “I know it is against Gryffindor code, but you need to be careful. You shouldn’t go off with just anyone, Miss Granger.”

Hermione stopped at the gate and turned to face him. “If you’re really so worried about me, perhaps you should ask me to go off with you instead.” He opened his mouth but closed it without saying anything. “That’s what I thought,” she shook her head and disapparated. He came right behind her, but when he arrived, he navigated through the crown immediately, not saying anything else to her. 

Over the next two hours, Hermione met three excessively masculine men who appeared to be friends with each other. She led them to an empty sitting area not too far from Sebastian, who was seated by the fire once again. Two of the men eventually wandered off, and Hermione was left talking with Jacob. She caught Sebastian’s eye as Jacob told her some stupid story about quidditch, which she pretended was funny. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed at her as she leaned forward and touched Jacob on the arm flirtatiously. 

“What do you say we go someplace more private, doll?” Jacob asked her. 

Hermione smiled at him brightly and said, “Perhaps in a bit. I’d like to have another drink first if you don’t mind." Jacob nodded and went off in the direction of the bar to order her another cocktail. She had ordered a vodka cranberry minus the vodka when she got there. As much as she would have liked to have a drink, she didn’t think it went well with her plan. Hermione glanced back at Sebastian to see him carefully watching Jacob interact with the barkeep. Deciding it was time to withdraw her attention from Sebastian, she stood and started to make her way to the bar. 

Sebastian cut her off half way there. “Might I have a word with you?” he asked looking around, probably hoping no one saw him talking to her. “In Private,” he added. 

“Lead the way, Sir,” she replied. Hermione followed Sebastian down a hallway on the opposite side of the building from the suites. There were several doors down this way as well, but Sebastian opened the third one in on the right and held it for her to walk through. Hermione found herself in a small office space with bookshelves, a desk, and a couple of lounge chairs. She padded over and hopped up on the desk as he quietly shut the door with his back to her. 

He turned to face her and folded his arms over his chest. “Stay away from Jacob,” was all he said. He looked at her expectantly, as if he was waiting for her to tell him she would do as she was told.

“And if I don’t?” she asked folding her arms to mirror his closed off body language. 

Sebastian dropped his arms and considered her for a moment before he removed his mask. Professor Snape now stood there in front of her, and the air grew thicker as if it knew who they were in each other’s lives. He took several steps forward until he was standing between her legs, which he nearly forced his way between. His hands came down on the desk on either side of her, and he said, “Just because the dark lord is gone, doesn’t mean there aren’t still dozens of followers who would see you dead if they got the chance.” 

Hermione looked at him sharply, fear suddenly twisting in her gut. “What about you? You’re here. Don’t they think of you as a traitor?” 

He nearly barked a laugh in her face. “Probably, but they wouldn’t dare cross me. Not only that, I’m not running off with them for an hour of meaningless sex,” he said. “Don’t fool yourself. There are quite a few of them here, and they all know each other. If one of them knows something, they all know it.”

“Well, where does that leave me then if I can’t trust anyone?” she asked unable to tear her eyes away from his mouth. “If you’re not interested, you could at least make a recommendation.”

“First of all, my recommendation from the beginning was and still is for you to return to the school. Secondly, what makes you think I’m not interested?” he asked coming even closer to her slightly parted lips.

Hermione hadn’t thought this far ahead in the plan and had no idea what to do now that she had him alone, between her legs, and with his mask off. “So what is it you’re here for then, if not to have meaningless sex with strangers?”

“My business doesn’t concern you,” he answered not pulling away from her at all.

“Well, you were wrong if you thought I was going to go off with Jacob or any of the other men out there,” she confessed. He gave her a disbelieving look. “See for yourself what I’m wearing under my dress if you don’t believe me,” she dared him bravely. 

Sebastian’s eyes were locked on hers as he said, “You shouldn’t assume I have some sort of moral dilemma about touching you because I have no such affliction.” His palms came to her knees and pushed the hem of her dress upwards until it was wadded up at her waist. He looked down between her spread legs for several seconds before pulling her skirt back down. He stepped back from her and put his mask back on. As he reached the door he said, “Go back to the school. If you haven’t changed your mind by tomorrow after dinner, come to my office.”

“Yes, Sir,” she responded as he walked out of the room. Smiling wickedly to herself, she made her way to the entrance to disapparate thanking Merlin she had decided to go with the cupcake underwear at the last minute before leaving her room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione paced her room for hours before dinner the next night. She had this horrid feeling he wasn’t even going to be in his office. He had just planned on making a fool of her, she thought. She had to go, though. She had to find out if he would be waiting there for her. She desperately hoped he would be.  


Professor Snape wasn’t at dinner, and Hermione was thankful for that. She wouldn’t have been able to eat otherwise. She sat pretending to read a book as she picked at her meal toward the end of dinner. Ginny left without her to finish an essay that was due the next day. Hermione wondered if she should have worn something different, but it was too late to change her mind now. The walk through the dungeon left her wet, her body anticipating excitement. She knocked on the door to his office, and he waved her in from behind his desk. She walked in and stood at his desk while he continued to read from a piece of parchment.  


“Sit,” he said as he shuffled the paper back into a stack and put it in one of the drawers in his desk. Hermione heard the door shut behind her, and her throat went dry. “I admit I’m surprised to see you.”

“Are you?” she asked incredulously. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed after casting a silencing charm on the door. She felt nervous all of the sudden knowing no one could hear them. No one would be able to hear her scream if he intended to throttle her. “I don’t want you to return to Ruby’s.”

She looked at him squarely. “Well, you don’t get a say in what I do with my free time, Sir.” She wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, but he had no right dictate her life. 

Professor Snape sat back in his chair with a sigh. “What made you decide to start going there?” he asked.

“I- I don’t know. I wanted to try something new,” she shrugged. 

He nodded. “While there are some decent people who frequent Ruby’s, the place is practically crawling with Death Eaters and their current and former girlfriends. It is NOT a safe place for the best friend of the Boy Who Lived to be wandering off with strange men.”

“Then why do you go there?” she asked feeling annoyed.

“I’m a potions dealer. I sell potions to those who what to enhance their experiences. In case you were unaware, a teacher’s salary is next to nothing, and I’d like to retire one day,” he told her honestly, which left her at a loss for words. “I would prefer not being surrounded by snot-nosed brats for the rest of my days.”

What? That’s just…well maybe that does make sense. “What kinds of potions? Why can’t they just get them at the market?” she asked.

“It’s mostly a matter of convenience, but some are not entirely legal,” he told her shamelessly. 

“You’re a drug dealer? But wait… what about those two women the other’s said you went off with?” she asked feeling like he was withholding something.

“They were clients,” he said simply. “They wanted something in particular that I require the women to purchase, not that it is any of your business. Generally only the dominant members know what I do as it is their job to see to their partner’s needs.

Hermione considered his answer for a moment. “So you’ve been doing this right under Ruby’s nose, and she hasn’t figured it out yet?”

He laughed at her then. “It was her idea. The others don’t know that, though,” he said looking at her seriously. “There are a lot of people who like to think they are getting away with something. Ruby approached me several months ago and offered to pay me generously. She said business was slowing and she needed a new incentive for people to come.”

“What kinds of potions do you sell?” Hermione asked curious to know more.

“Anything you want with payment upfront and enough time to brew it. I always carry about twenty common ones on me, though. Stamina and whatnot,” he said. 

Hermione slumped back in the chair feeling somewhat disappointed. Sebastian wasn’t interested in sex at all. He was working for Merlin’s sake! With him being off the table, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to go back. Had she met anyone at all that she was interested in? Well, aside from Ruby? Not really. No wonder Ruby seemed to want to distract her from Sebastian at first. And then she’d asked him to join them. He pretty much had to say yes to her. She was his boss. The thought that he didn’t want to be there with them that first night made her feel a little sick to her stomach. 

“Come here,” Professor Snape said pulling her out of her thoughts as he scooted his chair back from the desk a few inches. Hermione felt unsure in that moment. From this conversation alone, he didn’t seem interested in her at all. He’d just lured her here to convince her to stay away from his other workplace. Well, that and warn her about her potential demise. “Have you changed your mind, then?” he asked when she didn’t move. 

At that she did look up at him. She shook her head a she stood and nervously made her way around his desk. “When did you figure out who I was?” she asked him.

He reached out and grabbed her by the hip to lead her in front of him and said, “Before you were even in my lap. The first time. I had assumed that getting a spanking from your professor would have scared you off, but you loved it. Didn’t you, Miss Granger?” 

She couldn’t answer him; she was far too embarrassed. Hermione balled her fists nervously as Professor Snape’s hands moved to undo the button on her jeans. He tugged them gently over the swell of her bum and pushed her back into the desk. “Up,” he commanded. Unwilling to break the spell she was under, she obeyed and hopped up on the edge of the desk with her feet dangling between his legs. She watched him in awe as he untied her shoes one at a time and removed them before pulling her pants off completely.

“Does your boyfriend know what you’ve been up to lately?” he asked rubbing his palms up her slender thighs. He looked at her with his inky eyes, and she knew he expected an answer.

“N-no, Sir” she admitted. 

He nodded and bent his head down to kiss one of her thighs. Hermione felt dazed by the softness with which he was touching her. “What do you think he’d have to say about this? Hmm?” he asked before pushing her legs apart and trailing his tongue along her inner thigh. Hermione couldn’t answer him. She was too busy trying not to leave a puddle on his desk. “You don’t have to go to Ruby’s to try something new. I can think of a lot of things I’m sure you’ve never done before,” he told her as he bumped her clit with his nose and placed his hot mouth over the crotch of her panties. 

“Uh-ha,” she panted looking down at her Professor with his head between her legs. “Y-you said there were things you wanted to do to me…” she said trying not to ask, trying not to sound pathetic needing reassurance even with him sucking on her wet knickers.

“Mmm,” he hummed over her, sending a vibrating jolt through her. He pulled away just enough to answer her, and one of his hands came up to rub her where his mouth had just left. “And I’ll show you every single one of them if you let me, so long as you don’t go back there.” His fingers wiggled under the side of her panties and pushed into her with the intention of being buried deeply inside her.

Hermione moaned as two of his fingers pushed into her all the way to his knuckles, and his tongue found her clit for the first time without anything in its way. Seeing stars, she couldn’t help but pull her legs together, pinning his head between her legs. Professor Snape’s fingers pumped in and out of her harder as his lips closed over her clit to suck all of her blood out through it. Before long, Hermione was quaking around his fingers, while hers tangled in his black hair. As soon as her muscles started relaxing again, he withdrew his hand and proceeded to clean her up with long licks of his tongue, dipping just inside occasionally until he was satisfied.

Flopping back on the desk spent, Hermione was surprised to feel Professor Snape slipping her pants back up her legs. She just laid there and let him redress her as she regained her senses. He pulled her by the arms to a sitting position and then pulled her to her feet. “Come back after dinner on Wednesday,” he said as he wiggled her jeans over her bum and buttoned them. 

“Yes, Sir,” she replied as she tried to get herself together before leaving his office. On the way up to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione wondered what all of the different kinds of potions he sold were. Perhaps he would like to try some of them with her.  



	7. An Unexpected Lesson

Wednesday’s potions class was nearly excruciating. Hermione kept thinking about his fingers inside of her. Her classmates sat in class unaware that their professor had pleasured one of them with his tongue. And recently at that. She had always sought to get away with stuff, so it shouldn’t have surprised her that knowing no one suspected what they had done was a turn on. She had done so many risky things in her youth, including setting that particular teacher on fire. Sneaking around was practically an extracurricular activity for her, as well as her friends. Hermione mulled over the thought of fooling around with her professor in the storage room while the rest of the class sat at their workstations shuffling through the directions trying to make sure they hadn’t missed something. At one point, Professor Snape had walked by her closely enough to brush against her while he was going around the room looking for mistakes. By the time she left class, her knickers were soaking wet. She couldn’t wait to see him later that night. 

At dinner, Hermione realized she was still in her uniform, and it made her wonder if he would be put off by it. There was a chance that he might enjoy it too though. The thought made her turn red. Never having considered before the possibility that the man had schoolgirl fantasies, she was nearly beside herself with curiosity. 

“Are you okay?” Ron asked her while he held his wrist up to her forehead.

“I’m fine Ronlad,” she said.

“You look a little flush. I was going to come see you tonight, but maybe you should rest,” he told her.

Oh, shit. She hadn’t thought about having to explain why she was missing if someone came looking for her. “Now that you mention in, my throat has been a little sore today. Perhaps I should get to bed early.” She supposed she could just tell him it was none of his business. He’s the one who wanted to sleep around, after all. But after returning from Ruby’s that night while they were at the Burrow, she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with his childishness again. 

Hermione finished her meal quickly and went up three flights of stairs in case anyone happened to see her. She took a left on the fourth floor landing and went down the back stairway to the hallway that went by the kitchens. Ducking into the shadows of the corner of said hallway, she waited until she saw Ron, Harry, and Ginny ascend the stairs. Once out of sight, she walked around to the path leading to the dungeons. 

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you came crawling,” Malfoy said as he caught up to her. 

Hermione continued walking until she was outside of Snape’s office. “Shove off Malfoy,” she said.

“Oh come on, Granger,” he said backing her up against the wall, placing a hand on the wall by her head. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun.”

While Draco had been fun to fool around with, she wasn’t interested in him. “It was fun, but that’s all it was,” she told him.

Malfoy feigned looking hurt, “You wound me,” he said placing his hand on his chest as the door to Snape’s office opened. He righted himself as he saw Professor Snape standing in the doorway. “Sir,” he said before turning to catch up with his friends who were quite a way down the hall by then.

Without saying a word, Hermione walked into his office, and Professor Snape shut the door behind them. She heard him cast a few charms to ensure they weren’t interrupted. 

“Are you familiar with the dominant/submissive contract, Miss Granger?” he asked walking around his desk to sit in his chair, wasting no time getting to the point.

“Well, I have seen one, Sir. If that’s what you mean,” she answered taking the seat opposite him.

He nodded. “I will require a signed contract from you if your desire is to have a continued sexual relationship with me.” He handed her the papers and gave her a minute to look through them to satisfy her curiosity. She could read them thoroughly later. 

Safety is priority…respect…limitations….no intent to do lasting harm or unwanted harm… Curiously some of the verbiage was crossed out. No eye contact without permission was altered to must maintain eye contact until the dominant party looks away. It seemed even more embarrassing that way, now that she thought of it. For the most part, it was very similar to the example she had seen in the book. It was less restrictive, however. It would have to be though. Wouldn’t it? With them both living in the school and all. Hermione set the paper on his desk before looking back up at him.

“I expect you to call me Sir and answer my questions honestly. If you wish to stop for any reason or even slow down, you will tell me immediately. Quibbler, was it?” he asked. Hermione nodded. “You will need to choose another word for your desire to slow down if you sense we are approaching your limits. You need to write them into the contract on the second page.”

“So if I say quibbler you will stop?” she asked. Obviously he should say yes, but he is the one who cast doubt in her mind. 

“Immediately,” he responded immediately. “I have no desire to hurt you or force you into anything you do not wish me to. I require a willing partner. I have little desire to make demands of your personal life, but I will ask you to refrain from having sexual contact with anyone unless I give you permission. I also ask that you refrain from masturbating unless I give you permission. Everything else if fine. You are not to think of this as us dating because it is far from that. This arrangement, should you accept, will revolve around sexual gratification and experimentation. It will be nothing more than that. The only exception is that I will require you to stay out of Ruby’s until I tell you otherwise. If I see you there, this agreement will be over.” 

Hermione nodded. She wasn’t thrilled about being told to stay out of there, but the trade off seemed worth it. No sex with Ron though? That might be a problem. While she could go without, especially if she was getting it from him, she didn’t think Ron would take it well. He would see it as a rejection. She was sure of it. 

“This is part of the contract that you need to fill out before anything further happens between us. This is a list of things we might do if you are interested. Mark each one from 0 to 5 regarding your level of interest, zero being none at all,” he said handing her another sheet of paper.

Hermione asked, “How will I know if it’s something you’ll be okay with?”

“I’ve already removed everything that was originally on it that I am unwilling to do. Let me know if there is something you’d like to do that is not listed, and we can discuss it. Everything is up for discussion if you wish it, so don’t be shy. I want you to spend the next two days filling it out. You don’t need to rush. Bring it to my office Friday after dinner, but only if you are done,” he instructed.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied. So did that mean they weren’t going to do anything tonight? 

“I already foresee it being a problem getting you down here unnoticed. I’ll look into getting the Floo in your room opened up. It shouldn’t send any alerts if it is only open within the castle and not to the outside world,” he said. “I’ll figure that out once you’ve returned the papers signed.”

She agreed to take her time but left wishing he would have touched her. What had the world come to, that he left Snape’s office whishing he’d molested her while she was there? Fuck, her life was upside down. She was still a bundle of tension from potions class for Merlin’s sake! Hermione left anxious to look over the list. Once in her room, she took the sheets of parchment out of her pocket and enlarged them to their original size. She read over the agreement and signed it. The last clause, indicating that either party could terminate the agreement at any time, was the deciding factor when it came to her hesitancy about his rules, particularly with Ron. 

So everything on here, he’s willing to do. That’s a lot of information about him, she thought looking down at the rather long list. She spent the next hour filling it out. 

1\. Physical correction 2  
2\. Spanking with hand 2  
3\. Being struck with a cane, flogger, paddle, whip etc. 2  
4\. Being bound or tied up with ropes, cloth, chains, or by magical means 3  
5\. Being gagged 1  
6\. Being blindfolded 2  
7\. Vaginal penetration 5  
8\. Giving oral sex 5  
9\. Receiving oral sex 5  
10\. Anal sex 3  
11\. Anal plugs, beads, etc. 3  
12\. Oral anal stimulation (eraser marks) 2  
13\. Fisting vaginal or anal (eraser mark) 0  
14\. Object insertion (several eraser marks) 2  
15\. Sounding (eraser marks) 1  
16\. Asphyxiation 2  
17\. Clamps on genitals 2  
18\. Breast bondage 1  
19\. Nipple weights 1  
20\. Body hair shaving 1  
21\. Orgasm denial 1  
22\. Orgasm control 2  
23\. Massage 2  
24\. Hair pulling 2  
25\. Medical scenes 1  
26\. Misc. role play 2  
27\. Age play (several eraser marks) 2  
28\. Having clothing chosen for 2  
29\. Bathed or otherwise groomed (eraser marks) 2  
30\. Humiliation verbal or otherwise (eraser marks) 3  
31\. Public sexual stimulation 2  
32\. Magically altered sexual experiences through charms, transfiguration, potions 3  
33\. Being forced to do any of the above (indicate which numbers below):  
(several eraser marks)7, 8, 9

Hermione had to look up sounding in one of her books. Her initial instinct was to clamp her legs together as she wondered why it was even a thing. Enough people liked it for it to have been included on the list, and that’s what made her curious. The fact that he was willing to bathe her made her stomach flip. It seemed too gentle, too nurturing for him, and she wanted to witness it for herself. 

Hermione waited anxiously outside of Professor Snape’s office Friday after dinner. She made sure to change out of her uniform this time. This was going to be embarrassing enough without the added reminder that she was practically begging her Professor to fuck her. She was worried what he was going to think of her answers. What if he decided she was a freak and didn’t want to have anything to do with her? 

“Enter,” she heard him bark through the door. 

Hermione opened the door, walked through it, and shut it behind her. Walking to the front of his desk, her hands started to tremble. All she could do about it was ball them in fists at her sides and hope he wouldn’t notice. Not that it would be fair if he criticized her for it. She was about to give him a list of all the perverse things she thinks about. That’s what her father would call them, anyway. Her mother would be slightly more understanding. She supposed the people at Ruby’s wouldn’t have such a negative view of the activities she was curious about. 

“Well?” he said leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed, ankle over knee. “Do you have papers for me, or have you changed your mind?”

Hermione pulled the papers out of her pocket and enlarged them before setting them on his desk. Professor Snape picked them up and looked over the first few pages quickly to make sure everything was signed. He looked at the last page for far longer than she was comfortable with. It felt like he was grading one of her papers and hadn’t decided which insult to write on the top of it yet. The more time he took, the redder she was sure she became. 

He finally set the paper down and commented, “It looks like you had a little trouble filling this out.”

That was not what she was expecting him to say. But she’d take it. It was a hell of a lot better than ‘get the hell out of my office, you freak.’ “I kept changing my mind, Sir,” she told him. 

“Why didn’t you just remove the answer magically rather than leave this smudgy mess?” he asked almost before she had finished her reply. His tone was almost accusatory. 

Hermione looked down at her shoes wondering why they were talking about this. “I don’t know, Sir. I didn’t think of that at the time.” She sat in the chair just behind her and waited for him to say change the subject. Prayed he would change the subject. 

Professor Snape gave her a long, calculating look that unsettled her. “Is this an accurate depiction of your curiosity?”

She chewed on her lip while she thought about his question. He waved his wand over the last paper and erased the answers before handing it back to her. “You will fill it out again.” 

“Now?” she asked. It had been hard enough the first time. Now he wanted her to do it in front of him? While she was looking forward to doing some of these things, she didn’t want to talk about them. It was too much. Perhaps if they were only talking about one thing, but they weren’t. It was a whole list of things, half of which she was ashamed of talking about. It was her parents fault, really. Those prudes had made her the blushing girl she was right then. 

“Yes. Now,” he answered seriously handing her a quill. “I’ll give you two minutes. You already know what’s on it, so my advice is to go with your fist instinct.” 

She took the quill from him and leaned forward enough to write on the paper sitting on his desk. He sat back in his chair, so he wasn’t hovering directly over her. He was still far too close for comfort, though. Hermione did her best to go with the first number she’d thought of, but it was difficult. For whatever reason, he’d left the smudged pencil marks on the paper. Evidence of her first error. Every few marks, she glanced up at him to see that he was focused on her still with his hands folded in his lap. It didn’t unnerve her at all, she thought sarcastically. 

“Time’s up, Miss Granger,” he said. She put the quill down and sat back in the chair. 

Professor Snape appeared to be making mental notes as he looked over the paper for the second time, his mouth moving minutely. 

1\. Physical correction 2  
2\. Spanking with hand 3  
3\. Being struck with a cane, flogger, paddle, whip etc. 2  
4\. Being bound or tied up with ropes, cloth, chains or magical means 3  
5\. Being gagged 1  
6\. Being blindfolded 2  
7\. Vaginal penetration 5  
8\. Giving oral sex 5  
9\. Receiving oral sex 5  
10\. Anal sex 4  
11\. Anal plugs, beads, etc. 4  
12\. Oral anal stimulation 3  
13\. Fisting vaginal or anal 1  
14\. Object insertion 5  
15\. Sounding 3  
16\. Asphyxiation 2  
17\. Clamps on genitals 2  
18\. Breast bondage 1  
19\. Nipple weights 1  
20\. Body hair shaving 1  
21\. Orgasm denial 1  
22\. Orgasm control 2  
23\. Massage 2  
24\. Hair pulling 2  
25\. Medical scenes 1  
26\. Misc. role play 2  
27\. Age play 5  
28\. Having clothing chosen for 4  
29\. Bathed or otherwise groomed 5  
30\. Humiliation verbal or otherwise 5  
31\. Public sexual stimulation or humiliation 4  
32\. Magically altered sexual experiences through charms, transfiguration, potions 5  
33\. Being forced to do any of the above (indicate which numbers below):  
1, 2, 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 24, 26, 29, 31

“110, 73, is 37,” he mumbled. “37, Miss Granger,” he announced. “That is how many you were off by. That’s significant. Don’t you think?” he asked setting the paper back down. She didn’t answer because she didn’t have an answer. “Were you hoping I would read between the lines with that first one?” he asked. “Do you know what this tells me?” With that last question, he waited expectantly.

“That I think too much, Sir,” she told him feeling unsure of herself.

“No,” he said simply. “It tells me that you wanted me to notice it wasn’t accurate, even if subconsciously. It tells me you need to learn to be honest about what you want and how to ask for it. Lies are not the best way to start things off. Part of the agreement is that you are honest with me. Were you wanting a way out before we’ve even begun, or are going accept the punishment for giving me incorrect answers?”

Fuck! She felt trapped, and what’s worse is that she was the one who’d apparently set it. “I wasn’t looking for a way out, Sir.”

“37… That’s a nice number isn’t it?” he asked leaning forward to rest his arms on his desk. She looked away. She didn’t want to upset him. She wanted to be good for him. She needed praise and affection, damn it. “Look at me,” he commanded. She complied, and he said, “Take off your pants, and put them on that chair along with your panties.” 

She stood and removed her pants nervously while holding his gaze. This seemed a strange way to start a spanking, but then again, what did she know? Maybe this was how he liked to do it.

Once she stood in front of him naked from the waist down and wearing a lovely shade of fuchsia on her face, he told her, “Go stand in the corner over there with your hands flat on the wall.”

What? She thought. Not wanting to disappoint him again, she went to the wall and placed her hands on it. She immediately felt a swirling coolness around her hands and knew he’d secured them to the wall. 

“Broaden your stance,” he instructed her.

When she complied, the same sensation came over her feet. She felt so vulnerable. The sound of soft footsteps approached her, but half way to her, she heard scraping accompanying them. He was apparently dragging a chair over to her to sit in for the show. 

“There are more forms of punishment than you seem to have realized, Miss Granger. You will stand there like that for the next thirty seven minutes,” he said quietly. 

The room was silent for several minutes, and it made the experience all the more uncomfortable. What was he doing? Was he staring at her ass? Was he touching himself? Gods, she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to do this. Even her ass was blushing, she thought as she stood half bare as a room decoration in her professor’s office. 

She could feel his eyes on her naked skin. Perhaps she should have put down a zero under punishment and humiliation, but the truth was, the thought of Professor Snape sitting there looking at her so exposed was oddly arousing. And what if he was touching himself? She shifted her weight several times to alleviate the growing ache between her legs. 

“I see you’re more interested in object insertion than you originally admitted to,” he said conversationally.

And now she wanted to die! She had stupidly thought that she couldn’t possibly be more embarrassed.

“What have you used before? Was it by yourself or with a partner?” he asked.

Fucking hell, she swore to herself. “Um-b-by myself,” she said quietly. “A brush handle, and um,” Gods, this was awful. She would have taken a painful spanking over this. Did he know that? Was that why he was using this tactic? 

“What else?” he encouraged her, his voice almost oily. 

“A banana once, Sir,” she nearly cried. This was the most humiliating thing she’d ever been subjected to.

He hummed then asked, “Do you have a food fetish?” 

“No,” Hermione whined. “It was just convenient, Sir.” It was official. She was never going to be able to look him in the eye again. If he continued, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to look herself in the mirror either. 

“Was it always vaginal insertion, or have you tried anal insertion as well?” he asked calmly. His clinical detachment wasn’t doing anything to make her more comfortable. 

“No, I-I’ve not tried anal insertion, Sir,” she said feeling silly for that way that came out.

His voice was smooth and even as he asked, “Is that something you want me to do to you?” Was there a trace of hope in his voice? 

She wasn’t even sure what to say to that. “Sir, I’ve never given it any thought before, actually.” 

She was happy when he moved on to another questions, but it wasn’t any better. “Have you ever had anal sex before?” he questioned.

“Twice, Sir,” she told him. The first time was mostly uncomfortable, but Ron had loved it. She had braved an second time but made him go much slower. 

“I take it you enjoyed it then,” he said. 

It wasn’t technically a question, but she answered anyway, “Yes, Sir.”

“Have you ever been fisted?” he asked sounding way too ‘scientific inquiry’ for her comfort. She wasn’t a fucking survey subject!

“No,” she replied emphatically. “I was only a little curious. It seems like it would hurt quite a bit. I probably should have marked zero.”

A small chuckling noise filled the space between them, and it made her cringe. “Well, we won’t start with that then,” he promised, but it wasn’t as reassuring as he probably meant it to be. 

“You seem to have added a lot to the list of things you desire being forced to do. Do you feel guilty about wanting to be forced into these things?” he inquired.

Why? Why hadn’t she magically erased the damn paper? She was now at her peek of bearable discomfort. She talked with Ron about some of those other things, but she’d known him for years. Really known him, and he was her boyfriend. This was not something she’d even talked about with him before. “Obviously,” she said through gritted teeth. Hermione yelped when she felt his hand come in contact with her bare bottom sharply. 

“That is not how you answer me,” he said darkly.

“Obviously, Sir,” she corrected herself.

“Watch your cheek, Miss Granger,” he said as his hand snapped her behind again a second time.

She whined, “Yes, Sir.” Holy mother of Merlin that stung! 

“You marked public stimulation as a four. What does public sexual stimulation mean to you? Is it fucking in front of a room full of people?” he asked. 

Hermione was sure she couldn’t be any redder from embarrassment, but hearing him say the word fucking had her shifting her weight again. “No, Sir. Um,” she said trying to think of how to explain herself. “It’s more about getting away it. Getting way without being caught. I don’t want an audience.”

“Give me an example. I’m not sure how this one might play out for the two of us,” he said ruefully. 

Unfortunately the only thing that came to mind was what she had been thinking about during class. “The storage room during class while everyone is distracted,” Hermione explained. 

“Mr. Malfoy seems to be interested in you. Would you want him to watch me play with you? Or perhaps someone else entirely?” he asked. She could practically hear the smirk. 

“Um. I,” she started but thought about it for a moment longer, “might consider that.”

Professor Snape hummed, and there were another few minutes of silence before he spoke again. “Age play,” he muttered. “I’ll admit I didn’t expect that. I suppose the next few, clothing and bathing and what not, go along with that. Tell me about it?” he said.

A knot twisted in her stomach, and she started trembling. Her lip quivered. Nearly a whole minute passed in silence. “Please,” she said quietly. “Please don’t make me talk about it, Sir,” she begged.

“Tell me,” he said again.

She started crying. She couldn’t. It was too much.

“You will tell me, Miss Granger. Now,” he demanded.

As she continued to cry, he stood from his chair and walked up behind her. Her breathing was in broken gasps and her nose was starting to run. Hermione felt his breath on her neck, but no part of him was touching her. “Now might be an appropriate time to use one of your safe words, Miss Granger. You need to understand that it is acceptable to have limits. You will never be punished for being honest about them.” He spoke so gently that it threw her.

She hadn’t even considered it until he brought it up. He was right. She couldn’t take this line of questioning right off the bat, and perhaps the shift in the relationship from student/ teacher to dominant/ submissive muddled the boundaries for her. She had far less right to refuse Professor Snape as a teacher, but then he wouldn’t be asking these questions of her either. “Acid pops,” she choked out.

“Perhaps we can discuss it again later. Your 37 minutes are up,” he said softly as he stepped back from her and removed the charms keeping her in place. Hermione was still crying when he took her by the hand and led her back behind his desk and sat down in his chair.

Hermione climbed up on Professor Snape’s lap as he tugged her toward him. His hand came to rub her back soothingly as she regained control of her emotions. His other hand rested on her bare thigh. The erection she was sitting on was obvious, and she wondered what exactly it was that had given it to him. Had it been her crying? She hoped not. It could have been her nakedness or the filthy interrogation. In all likelihood, it was the act of humiliating her. It would only make sense. If word got out that he got off on embarrassing people, the only one in the entire school who would be surprised would be Professor Trelawney, the blind idiot. 

“Do you understand that not all limits are physical?” he asked as he gently brushed her hair over her shoulder. 

“Yes, Sir,” she nodded. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she was naïve. A hard to learn lesson for a ‘by the book’ kind of person. It wasn’t written in anything she’d read, after all. Was that what he had tried to hammer into her mind all those years? That there was so much more than what was printed in black and white, what was directly expressed? 

“I don’t want you to let that happen again. You are to use one of your safe words before you let yourself get that upset again. Crying is one thing, but nearing a nervous breakdown is another,” he told her. She felt foolish. “The people at Ruby’s expect you to know your own limits. They won’t know when to stop if you don’t tell them. You are the only one who determines your limits, so you have to know them.” 

Hermione could only nod as he ducked his head down and pressed his lips to the side of her neck. It was sensual. That’s all she could think as she sat on Professor Snape lap half naked and stuffy from crying while his erection dug into her backside and his soft lips moved against the delicate skin on her neck. She loved Ron, yet he never made her feel quite like this. He never made her feel like she was some decadent desert he wanted to savor. She didn’t love Snape, so how was he making her feel that way? 

The hand that was on her thigh dipped down between her legs. If she wasn’t acutely aware of his arousal, she would have been further embarrassed by how wet she was. He rubbed her gently with the pads of his fingers. “I think,” he said pulling away from her neck, “Saturday evenings will be an acceptable time for you to sleep with your boyfriend.” Hermione was surprised. “I don’t want you pleasuring yourself, though. If he can’t get you off, you’ll just have to wait.” He moved to prompt her to stand. “Put your clothes back on and return to your room. I’ll see about the Floo. We’ll not meet again until I have it figured out.”

God, she hoped that wouldn’t be too long. “Yes, Sir,” she said as she walked to the chair to put her clothes back on.


	8. A Mile Ahead

It wasn’t until the following Friday that Professor Snape approached her, and even then, it was him asking her to stay after class. Wednesday’s class had been flat out horrifying. He knew her secrets. Mostly, anyway, and she couldn’t get that last few minutes with him out of her mind. Hermione couldn’t wait to have a wild and dirty affair with him, but she was eager to see more of the softer side of him. Hermione waited at her workstation as the rest of the class piled out. As soon as the last student left, Professor Snape stood and walked around to the front of his desk while lazily flicking his wand at the door casting a muffliato charm. 

“I’ve opened the Floo between our rooms. It’s best we meet in your room for now, as I think it’s less likely that the Headmistress will need to make an unannounced visit to you. Hermione nodded. She hadn’t considered having him in her room. She’d assumed she would go to him. In a weird way, that made her feel special. He was going to go out of his way to come to her, even if only a walk through the Floo. “I will send you an owl with a time I wish to meet on that same day. You need only reply if it doesn’t work for you. In that case, you will send an owl back with a simple response that has nothing to do with anything. ‘I hear it’s going to rain tomorrow. Timmy said he’d save you a seat,’ or whatever. It doesn’t matter. Don’t put either of our names on it. I’ll understand what it means. I have no desire to have any more of my affairs on the front page. I will assume you would rather avoid that as well,” he said. Hermione nodded her understanding. “You may go,” he told her walking back to his chair behind his desk. 

Within fifteen minutes, Hermione received an owl with a note that had ‘2230’ on it. She smiled to herself knowing she would be seeing him later that night. She hadn’t expected him to send her a note so soon. After dinner, Hermione stood in front of the mirror in her room in just her bra and panties. She was too skinny. Not curvy enough. Had too much wild hair. There was nothing remarkable about her aside from her mind. Why was Professor Snape interested in her? Was he just trying to protect his business relationship with Ruby? That seemed unlikely. He could use any number of tactics to make her not want to return to Ruby’s. This would be an odd choice. He could simply make her life at school hell. It would certainly be easy enough for him. 

She stood looking at the dilemma in her closet. What to wear? Did he expect her to dress as she had for Ruby’s? She couldn’t see him changing into muggle clothes just to come to her room, so she decided against anything too dressy. Jeans and tee-shirts were all that was left. She was going to have to expand her wardrobe, but there was no time for that now. What would be the most likely to get her what she wanted? What did she want? She wanted him to walk in, throw her down on her bed, and take her as roughly as he wanted. Perhaps that would be just what she needed to get over her doubt that he wanted her. Jeans were not conducive to that. They’d have to be unbuttoned and yanked off. She needed a skirt, but the only choice she had was a knee length jean skirt that was still stiff as a board because she rarely wore it. The thought of it was not sexy. 

Flopping back down on her bed trying to formulate a new plan to tackle her attire, she landed on her sweater. Looking down at the clothes bunched up at her side, she was struck with an idea. She wasn’t sure. He might really hate it, but there was also the possibility he’d love it. He’d taken her knickers without hesitation even after he knew who she was before. Perhaps there was a chance that he would jump at the opportunity to take out some of his frustrations. It was decided. Hermione went in search of a pair of knickers that were both decent looking and expendable in case he decided to take them again. 

Realizing she didn’t want a repeat of the last time he was in her room, she shoved everything into her closet. At ten twenty five, Hermione sat at her vanity and combed her hair again to make sure it wasn’t a tangled mess before Professor Snape arrived. At exactly half past ten, her Floo flared green and Professor Snape walked into her room wearing his usual black trousers, but he was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was the kind she imagined him wearing under his teaching robes. There was always a little something white poking out around the collar. Hermione felt incredibly nervous all of the sudden. 

“How was your day?” he asked as he took a few steps into the room and glanced around.

She couldn’t believe he’d asked her that, and it took her a moment to formulate an answer. “It-it was fine, Sir. And yours?” Hermione asked in return as he walked up to her dresser and touched a few of the things sitting on it.

“Just fine?” he questioned picking up her hairbrush. 

Wondering what the hell he was doing, she stood up from the chair she was sitting in at her desk, and said, “Yes, Sir.” 

Professor Snape walked over to her bed and sat down with one leg under him and the other on the floor. He was on her bed patting the spot in front of him, beckoning her over. Snape was on her bed. Hermione walked over to sit facing him, but he turned her around to face away from him. “My week was ‘fine’ as well,” he told her as he loosened the clip holding her hair up. Professor Snape ran his fingers through her hair and asked her, “Did you sleep with Mr. Weasley on Saturday?”

Hermione was completely surprised he would ask such a thing. “No, sir.” Why did he want to talk about Ron?

“And why is that?” he questioned as he dragged the brush through her hair carefully.

“I-I didn’t feel like it, I suppose,” she answered. He smelled so delicious. Oh, gods she hoped her bed would smell like him after. But what if Ron noticed that? Who was she kidding? Ron didn’t notice anything! Ginny maybe.

Running the brush through her hair a few more times, he kept the conversation going. “How is your relationship with him? The other night you said he was probably off with someone else while you were on your way to Ruby’s. Is this an agreement you have, or are you pretending you’re both remaining monogamous?”

She was uncomfortable in a whole new way. Never had she ever envisioned him coming in here to brush her hair and discuss her teenage romances with her. “It’s an agreement.”

“How did this agreement come about?” he asked quietly. 

Why does that matter? She sighed and responded, “It was his idea. I knew he wasn’t thinking I was going to participate in the same way he intended to.”

“So he wanted to whore himself around while you waited for him?” he put it bluntly.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly like that. Neither of us wanted to feel like we committed too soon and ruin any future we might have together,” she lied, sort of. She hadn’t seen it that way at first, but she came around. 

Professor Snape tugged through a knot that had formed, but he was more gentle than she would have been. “I’d like you to sleep with him tomorrow night.” 

“Pardon?” she said in disbelief.

“Offer yourself to him. If he declines, that’s his loss. Actually, I’d like for you to offer every Saturday for now,” he decided. 

This had to be strangest conversation imaginable. “Okay,” was all she could think to reply. She supposed it was better than him telling her to never sleep with Ron. 

“I would like for you to keep Friday evenings free for me. Ten thirty, just like tonight. Fridays are going to be game night,” he announced, as if talking about playing board games with his relatives over a cup of cocoa. “I like games. They make things more exciting. Do you like games, Miss Granger?”

“Not particularly,” she admitted. “I’m not really the competitive type.” He stopped brushing her hair, and she felt the bed move as he reached over to put her brush on her nightstand.

“Well, you might like this one. It’s not a competition. You will get to choose every Friday,” he said. She liked the sound of that. Choices were good. “You will have the choice to allow me to decide what we do, or we can play the black bag game.” 

“What’s the black bag game, Sir?” She asked not having a clue what he was talking about. 

Professor Snape conjured a piece of paper and held it out in front of them for her to be able to see it too. It was a list of items on the sheet she filled out for him. He brought the paper back around behind her and tore it in half. She was really lost. She sat there and listened to him shred the thing. It must have been in tiny little pieces by the sound of it. 

“Here,” he said reaching around her to set the stack of paper scraps in her lap. “We’re going to go through them together. What’s the first one in the pile?” he asked her. 

“Physical correction,” she said quietly. This was uncomfortable already.

“No. What’s the next?” he nudged her.

Hermione looked down after setting the first paper to the side. “Spanking with hand.”

“Yes. Okay,” he said almost excitedly. That fucking made her nervous! She felt his arm reach around her again and set a black pouch near the pile of papers. “Put that one in the bag,” he instructed. “What are the next few?” he asked.

Hermione suddenly had a feeling she knew where this game might be going. Possibly. “Being struck with a cane, flogger, paddle, whip etc., and being bound or tied up with ropes, cloth, chains or magical means,” she read off.

“Those can go in the bag,” told her. She could practically feel him nodding. “Go on.”

She took a deep breath and read off, “Being gagged, being blindfolded, and vaginal penetration.” She could feel heat creeping up her neck already. Knowing what else was on this list, she knew it was only going to get worse. 

“Put them in the bag. Next?” he stated as if they were picking out fruit at the market.

“Giving oral sex, receiving oral sex, and anal s-sex,” she stumbled a little for the first time. This was going to be difficult. 

He hummed and leaned over her shoulder taking the papers out of her hand and placing them in the bag. His other hand came around her and picked up one of the papers. “Anal plugs, beads, etc.,” he read. “Put that in the bag, please, Miss Granger,” he whispered near her ear. “Oral anal stimulation. Yep! That one too. Fisting,” he took a breath and paused as if trying to make a decision. “We probably ought to leave this one out.” He crumpled the paper and tossed it over his shoulder. Thank fucking god for that! “Object insertion. In the bag,” he said handing it to her. “Sounding. Sounding…” he mused aloud. “Let’s live a little. Put it one in the bag,” he said with mirth. “Asphyxiation, clamps on genitals, breast bondage…in the bag.” 

Professor Snape picked up the stray paper she started with, crumpled it, and tossed it to the floor out of their way along with body hair shaving. “Nipple weights, orgasm control and denial,” he said handing them to her. She put them in the bag with the others. He crumpled up massage and tossed it. “Hair pulling, medical scenes, medical scenes. Hhmm,” he thought aloud. “What’s the next one? Role play. Okay. Yes, all three of these will go in the bag.” She did as he instructed. “Age play? No. Clothing? No. Grooming? No.” All three went sailing across her room. “Humiliation? Yes. Public? NO!” he said emphatically. “That just won’t work for us with this game. We’d probably end up arrested. Not to worry, though. We’ll get to those other things in due time. Ah! Magically altered sexual experiences through charms, transfiguration, potions. Sadly, I think we need to leave this one out. I prefer to have complete control that,” he said somewhat darkly. The last one that said being forced to do any of the above was tossed aside.

“So this is our black bag. I like to call it ‘Things Miss Granger would like Professor Snape to do to her.’ I expect you to hang on to it, unless you’d like to do that again. That lovely shade you’re wearing tells me otherwise, though. Now! As I was saying before, you can either choose to allow me to decide what we will be doing each Friday evening, or you can choose to randomly select what we do from the black bag. However, if you choose the bag, you will have to pick three things. And there will still be variables that will be up to my discretion, of course. Artistic license and all,” he said lightly. “Keep in mind, this will only be Fridays and not any other days we may happen to see each other.” 

While Hermione was excited, she was also mortified. Let him have free rein or let the bag decide? At first, she thought him deciding seemed less frightening than doing three of those things in one night, but then she remembered that Professor Snape is a Slytherin. She realized he may just pick three things himself as opposed to one. There were some firsts in that bag that she was rather nervous about, and almost all of them were firsts with him. And what if she let him decided? Would he then be able to pick something that WASN’T in the bag? “Sir,” she said. “If I choose to let you decide, are you going to choose from the things in the bag?”

Hermione felt him brush her hair over to the side and come closer to her ear. “If you are asking if I will be limited to the bag, the answer is no,” he said, his breath hot on her neck. “This is what I want to look forward to at the end of my week. What do you say, Miss Granger? Will you play with me? Will you play by the rules?” His lips brushed her neck gently before finding a spot to lick.

Hermione fought the sensation of her eyes rolling back into her head to try and think clearly. The few things she was the most nervous about weren’t in the bag. What if he chose one of those things carelessly discarded on her floor? Gods, his mouth is amazing. She’d never had anyone make love to her neck before, but it was something she could get used to. She eventually came to the conclusion that the bag was the safer bet. It made her less nervous to think so anyway. “It’s like The Goblet Of Sex,” she snorted suddenly. 

“Something like that,” he responded after pulling away from her neck. “What will it be tonight? “Shall I do whatever I fancy, or would you prefer the fates to decide for us?”

“I think we should start with the bag,” she said confidently. Reaching around her, he grabbed the bag and shook it up comically. It made her laugh, which was a relief as she had grown quite tense. He opened the bag and waited for her to pluck their activities out of it. With a trembling hand, she reached in and pulled the first one out. She let out a puff of air upon seeing giving oral sex. The bag was the right choice. She wanted to get a look at his equipment. She couldn’t wait! The little purring noise he made upon seeing it made her stomach flutter. Fuck, Hermione thought as she pulled out blindfold. Really? She really wasn’t going to get to see his cock? What the actual fuck? Drawing the last one, she was afraid to look. 

He was not afraid at all apparently because he growled, “Oh, we are going to have so much fun.” 

Glancing down, Hermione reminded herself that it could be so much worse. It wasn’t what she would have chosen to start with, but she wasn’t going to complain. It was something she WANTED to do, after all. She was just nervous about it. She was nervous about all of it. She was nervous about him. Knowing what Professor Snape was going to do to her, while nerve racking, was incredibly exciting. It was likely to be a very good night. Yes. It was going to be good, and she only needed to relax. Perhaps after tonight, some of the worry will have left her. 

“Stand up,” he said to her. Hermione stood, and he got up off of the bed as well. Reaching out to her, he loosened her Gryffindor tie enough to pull it over her head and drape it around his neck. “Have you any toys?” he asked. 

“Um, just a few in the nightstand,” she said watching him bend down in front of her. 

His hands ran up her legs under her skirt, and his fingers dug under the waistband of her knickers. Sliding them down slowly, he looked up at her. His expression was flat, but he had to be feeling something. Right? “Are you afraid?” he inquired softly. 

“A little, Sir,” Hermione confessed. She picked her feet up for him one at a time, so he could get her knickers off of her. 

Professor Snape tossed her panties on the far side of the bed and took her hand, pulling her back toward the head of the bed. He sat and pulled open the top drawer of her nightstand and peeked inside. Pulling out a small silver bullet-shaped vibrator, he held it up between them before setting it down on the bed next to her discarded underwear. “Sit,” he ordered. 

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him conjure a long black scarf of a silky material. He leaned toward her and began to tie it securely behind her head. “Do you remember your safe words, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, Sir.” Hermione wished she could still see him, and not being able to made her a little nervous. 

“Lie down on your stomach,” he instructed. She complied, and he helped adjust her into the position he wanted her in. Her head was at the bottom of the bed almost dangling off the edge, and her body and legs lay at an angle across the bed. She felt the mattress depress on either side of her and felt his weight settle on the backs of her thighs. Professor Snape’s hands grabbed both of hers and brought them together at her lower back. When she felt fabric being wrapped around her wrists, she said, “Sir, that wasn’t one of the things I selected.”

She felt him lean forward, her hands now touching his abdomen. “Artistic license, Miss Granger. Unless you’d prefer to stop.”

“No, Sir,” she said firmly. She wasn’t trying to complain. Realizing that either way, the bag or letting him choose, he was going to choose. So…the bag did not limit. It included. He sat back up and finished securing her wrists together. 

“Good.” He shifted his weight and scooted down her legs a few inches but leaned forward putting a hand down beside her rib cage. His soft hand found the back of her thigh and stroked upwards under her skirt, pushing the back of it up over her bum. He massaged her bare skin until some of the stiffness in her body dissipated. 

“Mm.” Hermione felt his hand work its way between her closed legs and press flat against her sex firmly. The pressure felt good. If she could only get him to move. A tingling sensation struck her, and his free hand came to her crack as his weight settled back on her legs. One finger tickled down the center without pushing her cheeks apart. Leaning back over her, the hand between her legs began to rub while keeping the pressure consistent. She tried desperately not to hump his hand, but it was becoming harder as she became wetter. His hand moved in longer strokes until he was finally sliding over her tight hole with his wet fingers. 

Hermione groaned when he withdrew his hand from between her legs and moved so that he was straddling only one of her legs. Her other leg was push to the side so she could be reached more easily. Feeling the toy she was so familiar with slide up and down through her wet fold made her squirm. “We want to make sure this is nice and wet,” he told her in a gravely voice as he angled the tip toward her entrance. Professor Snape pushed it in an inch and withdrew it before going back for two inches. He worked it in and out of her a several times before leaving her pussy bereft. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed feeling the tip circle around her puckered hole. He went slowly, which she appreciated, but she was starting to feel impatient. He had nearly worked her up to an orgasm and then abandoned the idea. He pushed in a little farther and used his free hand to pull one of her cheeks to the side. “Ah.” Hermione wiggled under him knowing he was looking down at her impaled asshole. There was something embarrassing about it. Perhaps if he would give any indication as to whether or not he was enjoying himself, she could relax. But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything as he pushed the vibrator in deeper and deeper. 

Before long, he was using the length of it to fuck her. It was so slow, it was agonizing. If she angled her hips just right, maybe she could get friction on her clit against the bed. If he was bothered by her wiggling, he didn’t say so, but as soon as she was in a position to get some contact on her clit, he stopped his movements and climbed up off of the bed. Vibrator still buried all the way inside her, he stood near her head, and she could hear movement. He was undoing his pants. It was very hot all of the sudden. Any moment beads of sweat were going to appear on her forehead.

Hermione felt Professor Snape’s hand touch her cheek, the backs of his finger caressing her after brushing a stray curl out of the way. His thumb came down and drew across her lips, catching the bottom one causing her to open her mouth slightly. Slipping his index and middle finger just far enough in her mouth to touch the pads of his fingers to her tongue, he let out a heavy breath. It was the first sign that he had given her that he was affected by what they were doing. Almost as soon as his fingers left her mouth, she felt velvety skin touch her lips. Eager for more, Hermione opened her mouth a little wider. The soft head of his cock filled the space, but didn’t push. Opening her mouth all the way, the head of his cock seemed to fall into place in her mouth, against her tongue. It was wider the Ron’s, she realized immediately. 

Using her tongue, she swirled it around once before reached out for more of its length. It was then that she realized he wasn’t circumcised. Ron was. Curious, she licked along the ridge of the folded skin trying to find a way in. Just then, Professor Snape’s hips jolted causing her to lose her place along the sleeve. His hand came back to her cheek as he shifted toward her, his dick taking up more space in her mouth. Hermione wished she had her hands free. She really wanted to touch him. Still on her stomach with her arms tied behind her, she really couldn’t move. 

Hermione closed her lips around his cock and sucked gently. A quiet groan escaped him as a hand tangled in her hair, gripping her firmly. Professor Snape rocked into her mouth with slow shallow thrust. She wondered if he was always this gentle or if it was for her benefit. After that spanking at Ruby’s, she was he could be quite rough if it wanted to. She tried to imaging what was going on in his mind right then. He was standing at the foot of one of his student’s beds with his prick in her mouth while her hands were bound and a vibrator rested snugly in her backside. 

“Oh,” he breathed as his fist tightened in her hair. She wondered what his cum was going to taste like. Would it be more or less salty than Ron’s? Would there be a lot or just a little? “Good girl,” he said quietly. Hermione sucked as she moved her tongue back and forth on his shaft. “Ah,” he panted pulling back out of her mouth abruptly and removing his hand from her hair. 

What was he doing, she asked herself. Was he going to finish himself? Heavy breathes touched her cheek as a hand found her wrists. He must have been kneeling in front of her, reaching over to free her arms. 

“Make sure no one is in your room Monday morning before classes. Either eat early and return, or have breakfast here. I’m going to stop by for a few minutes. Oh, and don’t forget you’re not allowed to touch yourself,” he said. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently. It was not something Hermione expected him to do. Her arms fell to her sides, and she carefully rolled over onto her back as the vibrator was still inside of her. Removing the scarf that was covering her eyes, she expected him to still be kneeling beside her bed, but he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't ever, ever put someone's junk in your mouth without getting a good look at it. ;)


	9. What A Combination

Throwing her head back on her bed, Hermione wondered why he hadn’t finished. She had been expecting him to. Ron certainly would have; he did every time they were together. She was going to have to wait to get off until tomorrow. That fucking sucked. She reached down and slowly removed the vibrator before casting a quick cleansing charm on it. Her tie was still slightly knotted up next to her. It must have been what he had used to bind her wrists together. Kinky, she thought, but it had been her choice to wear her uniform. 

There was knocking at her door, and she scrambled out of bed. “Just a second,” she shouted while throwing the vibrator, her panties and her tie into her night stand. “I’ll be right there,” she said smoothing her skirt down and heading for the door. Along the way, she picked up several scraps of the paper that had been thrown about and shoved them into her hamper. 

“Hey,” Ron said as she opened the door. He walked by into her room and sat on the bed. “I was just wondering if you were still up. The match went on for ages.”

“Yeah,” she said. “How was the game?”

He made a sour face. “Ravenclaw won. I was really hoping Hufflepuff could pull this one off,” he said as he reached out for her hand and pulled her down onto the bed with him.

“That’s too bad,” she told him. Ron leaned forward and kissed her, but she pulled away after a few seconds not wanting it to go far enough that he realized she wasn’t wearing knickers. She smiled at him and saw a scrap of paper out of the corner of her eye. Fuck. ‘Fisting’ was lying on her bed just behind him. “Listen, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Hermione leaned forward to kiss him once again and slowly grabbed the paper sliding it under her pillow. 

“Well, I’ll let you sleep,” Ron said standing up after she pulled away from him. 

Hermione was relieved when he left. The next evening he had been in the mood when she’d suggested she wanted to have sex. Ron was on top her in bed while kissing her, but she couldn’t stop wondering about what Professor Snape was doing at Ruby’s. He was working obviously, but she was still curious. He really hadn’t told her as much about the potions he sells as she wanted to know. Maybe she would ask him again. Switching positions, Ron pounded into her while she was on all fours. She really loved it this way, but she needed a little more stimulation. She wasn’t allowed to touch herself, so she was going to have to ask for what she wanted. Perhaps that’s what this was all about. Maybe Professor Snape was using a tricky tactic to get her to be more assertive about sex. “Touch me, Ron,” she panted. One of his hands came around her and squeezed her left breast. That wasn’t what she had in mind. Grabbing his hand, she guided him between her legs. He was inconsistent at best with his movements.

Why was he suddenly less capable of pleasing her? Normally she would have gotten off by now. After another couple of minutes of being hammered into, Hermione thought over the possibility that she was the one responsible for her orgasms. She was always touching herself when they were together, always trying to rub against him the right way. How had that gone by unnoticed all this time? She had genuinely thought it was normal to make frequent adjustments, and she just like touching herself. It felt natural. Nothing was wrong with that, but to depend on it? Ron finished and rolled over onto her bed. As he lay there sweaty and naked, Hermione told herself she was just over thinking it. 

Sunday morning, Hermione swore Professor Snape was watching her while she ate breakfast. He had to be. She could feel it, but every time she looked, his attention was elsewhere. Lunch was exactly the same and dinner as well. It wasn’t until desert was served that she caught his eye. He gave her a curious look, as if he was trying to turn a smile in to a sneer. Had he been playing with her the last few days, and she only just now figured it out? Was Professor Snape playful? The thought struck her as odd, even considering the filthy game he made up for the two of them. Did he make it up? She had assumed so. Maybe everyone knew about the black bag game but her. That’s absurd, she told herself. 

Monday morning finally came around, and she couldn’t wait to see Professor Snape. She wouldn’t normally see him on a Monday aside from meal times. Not wanting to miss him, she ate breakfast in her room and started getting ready. She was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed under her when Professor Snape stepped through her Floo. “Good morning, Sir,” she offered. He had arrived earlier than she had thought he would, but it was a pleasant surprise. Professor Snape, a pleasant surprise? Things certainly have changed. 

“Good morning,” he greeted as he watched her put two books into her bag. “Have you completed your homework that is due today?” he asked coming over to her bed. 

“Yes, Sir,” she answered as he sat down. 

He inquired, “And brushed your teeth?”

Her eyebrows pinch together. “Yes, Sir.” Professor Snape only nodded in response and picked up the pair of socks from her bed. He unrolled them and tugged her legs apart to stretch out on the bed beside him. Hermione watched in awe as he put her socks on for her. This was definitely the weirdest thing she’d ever experienced. After her socks were on, he put on her shoes for her. Grabbing her Gryffindor tie, he placed it around her neck and proceeded to secure it into place. “Sir, you don’t have to do that,” she told him.

He stopped and looked at her. “And if I want to?” he asked with a raised brow daring her to challenge him. Unsure if she even wanted to stop him, she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she let him comb her hair and French braid it with a spell. “I have to go,” he said with a hint of regret in his tone. “I intend to come back on Wednesday morning, so do as you did today.” Professor Snape stood up from her bed, bent down to kiss her on the forehead, and said, “Have a good day.” He disappeared through the Floo before Hermione could process a response. She ruminated on how he had acted that morning for the rest of the day. And the next.

When Wednesday morning came, Hermione readied for school in a hurry, curious to know what he’d do with their time if she was already ready for school. The Floo flared green, and he stepped through. Walking over to the chair by her desk, he took a seat and called her over to him without so much as a ‘good morning.’ “What is that?” Hermione asked as he held up a strange object. 

“What is that, Sir,” he corrected her immediately. 

“Sorry, Sir,” Hermione said. 

He seemed to be over it before she was, as he went on, “Pull your panties down.” Her eyebrows shot up. This was nothing like Monday morning. Doing as she was told, she kept her eyes on him, trying to figure out what he was up to. He gave away nothing. “Spread you legs a little,” he demanded while reaching out to her. Hermione shifted one leg further away from the other and took a sharp breath as Professor Snape started rubbing her without preamble. Within seconds, moisture started to gather and she tilted her hips into him. She would love to start her day with an orgasm. It had been too many days since her last one.

Hermione’s cheeks burned as he leaned forward and lifted up her skirt. She gasped as she felt what could only be the pain of waxing in her sensitive place. Her eyes watered, but he paid no attention to that. He rubbed her roughly a few more times before picking up the two balls attached to a string. Feeling pressure at her core, she leaned forward and rested her hands on his shoulders for support. It stretched her, and she felt herself close around the ball. After he pushed the second in he asked, “How does that feel?” 

“Um-full, Sir,” she responded. She did indeed feel full. There was pressure on her bladder even. 

Professor Snape pulled her panties back up her legs and said, “Turn around and walk over to the closet.” Doing as she was told, she was shocked to feel a strange springy movement inside of her. It was apparent that there were balls or at least something bouncing around within the silver balls he’d pushed into her. The new sensation made her clit ache, but it could also have something to do with him touching her. “Now, come back,” he said. When she was standing in front of him again, he asked, “Does it feel like they’re going to slip out?” Hermione shook her head, and he nodded. “I want you to keep them in, and every time you think about me today, I want you to squeeze them,” he informed her. “I’ll be checking to make sure you haven’t taken them out. If you’re a good girl for me, I’ll give you a reward later.” She had to walk to class like this? Fuck. What would the reward be? “Do you understand?” he asked. She nodded, and he took that as his cue to leave. 

Every step she took that morning, she could feel bouncing or rattling. She didn’t even know what to call it. It made it impossible not to think of him, and so she was squeezing the damn thing all almost continuously. Sitting was almost worse. It caused her lean forward, trying her best to make the seat come in contact with her clit. She obviously could not get off in the middle of class, his rule not even considered. She just wanted the pressure to control the ache. By the time she made it down to potions, she was ready to rub herself on the leg of her workbench. She was desperate from being aroused for so long. This was absolute torture. The only thing she wanted as a reward at this point was an orgasm, and she didn’t care how it came to her. Twice Ginny had asked her if she was sick because she keep blushing and breaking out in a sweat. 

They were brewing that day. Thank Merlin. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to handle sitting still all class long while he lectured. Listening to him, imaging him saying dirty things to her would surely have put her over the edge. Toward the end of class, one of the jars of newt eyes on her table fell to the floor, causing eyeballs to roll in every direction in the classroom. She hadn’t even been near it! That was the second time she’d had an unexplainable spill at her workstation. It was almost as if someone was picking on her like she was a first year. Malfoy was on the other side of the room though, and he’d certainly gotten over hating her. Hermione looked over to Professor Snape and thought back to the other incident. It had left her in the room alone with him, just as this one would. The rest of the class was already leaving.

She should have known. He hadn’t deducted house points for her carelessness. Hermione ducked under one of the back tables looking for any stray eyeballs. It was a good thing it was lunchtime, or she would be late to her next class. Confident she’d gathered them all, she started walking toward the storage room. She was confused to be standing alone in the potions room. Where had he gone? Why cause her to stay after class just to leave-

Hermione was unexpectedly spun around and shoved into the wall just inside the storage room next to the door. He’d apparently been waiting to ambush her. Professor Snape’s body pushed into her. “Have you done as you’ve been told, Miss Granger?” he asked, warning in his tone. 

“Yes, Sir,” she nodded, her cheek rubbing up against the wall. Professor Snape reached around and wasted no time getting his hand up her skirt and into her wet knickers. She felt him toy with the string before tugging on it gently. “Oh,” she panted at the sensation. He shushed her and continued pulling. Hermione squirmed, shifting her weight back and forth. 

“So you have been a good girl.” he teased. “Good girls get bedtime stories, Miss Granger,” he said silkily. “I’ll be there at half past ten tonight.”

When she felt the second ball slip free he withdrew from her. When she turned to look at him, he was gone. She had absolutely no idea what bedtime stories was a euphemism for, but she couldn’t wait to find out. She only hoped it involved her getting off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

What the actual fuck? Hermione came out of her bathroom to see Professor Snape sitting in her chair by her bed with a book in his hand. Well, what used to be her bed, anyway. Hermione stood there and stared at the girly, white metal bed frame and the pale purple comforter with white daisies printed all over it. She hadn’t even known he had arrived. “Whatcha do ta my bed?” she asked in alarm. 

“It’s cute. No?” he asked. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Perhaps she’d eaten something that had gone bad, and she was now delirious. Professor Snape held up the copy of Charlotte’s Web he had and said, “I told you what we would be doing this evening.” In the middle of her bed sat a stuffed elephant with giant floppy ears. 

At a complete loss, she walked over to her bed and climbed on top of it. This Snape was the opposite of the one who had visited her that morning. He set the book at the bottom of her bed and helped her get under the covers. He turned the lights down and cast a hover light near the book. Hermione head the first scratch of paper being turned, and he stated to read. Several minutes went by before she relaxed into her pillow. She had been desperate to get off, but there was something soothing about his voice that comforted her, even though this was completely bizarre. She wondered if he’d wished he had children. Was he using their relationship to get that missing connection in his life? There was also the very real possibility that he was trying to get her to talk about…that thing she didn’t’ want to discuss, but she didn’t even want to think about that. Unwilling to ask, the only thing to do would be to wait and see what else he had in store for her. Even if this was some sort of trade off, she could live with it if he continued to see her.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione had been grateful to wake to the room she was familiar with. He must have changed it back before he left. It had been…nice. Not that she’d admit that to anyone. That would just be weird. ‘What’d you do last night ‘Mione? Oh, nothing. Professor Snape just tucked me in and read me a children’s book.’ She almost laughed imagining the look on Ron’s face. 

All day long, she debated what she should do that night. She wanted to let him have control, so long as it was what she wanted. That wasn’t giving up control at all. Was it? So what if she wasn’t ready? After last night, there was just no way she could tell him she wanted him to have sole discretion. The black bag at least allowed her to pretend to have a say. 

After classes were over, Hermione went to her room to look through those books she’d bought. Kegel balls. That’s what those things had been apparently. Seeing pictures of some of the things on the list, she was even more curious about them. Her mind was made up; she’d choose the black bag again. He’d sent her the time of eleven earlier in the day. It was a little later than the evenings they’d met before, and it made her wonder why he would be busy so late.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Object insertion, asphyxiation, humiliation verbal or otherwise. Those were the words that stared up at her as she sat on her bed with her feet tucked under her. She was nervous about all three. She hadn’t done any of those things with Ron, not that she’d let him. 

“That’s one of my favorite things about the bag,” he announced. “There are hundreds of possible combinations.” He looked at her hands which were picking at the nail polish that had started to wear off. “Take off your clothes,” he demanded as he stood up. Hermione watched him walk off toward her bathroom, and she climbed down off of her bed slowly. She was nervous about being so exposed, but she would do what he told her. Banging sounds came from the bathroom, drawers being opened and closed, cabinets shutting, things shuffled through. “What is this?” he asked poking his head around the corner holding something up in his hand.

“Magic curling iron. Just needs a heating charm, Sir,” she answered surprised he didn’t know what it was. Then again, she couldn’t see him sitting around in his quarters curling his hair on Sunday afternoons either. 

“Perfect. It’s even got a handle on it,” he replied darkly. 

Hermione’s stomached tightened at that. She really hadn’t considered what he might use. He sat back down in the chair he had moved to the side of her bed. His eyes locked on her chest as she removed her bra. Flaming heat crept up as she bent over to remove her knickers while he stared at her lecherously. 

“Turn around,” he told her. She faced the other way, and his hand came down to caress the curve of her lower back and her creamy cheeks. She nearly yelped when he swatter her leaving a stinging sensation. “Did you sleep with your boyfriend last Saturday?” he inquired into her back.

“Yes, Sir,” Hermione answered as he pulled on her arm to turn her back to him. 

He seemed to hum in contentment with her answer. Feeling his hands run up and down her sides and over the flat plan of her stomach, she shifted her weight to keep her knees from trembling. “Did you think about me much on Wednesday morning while you were walking around with my ball inside of you?” She told him she did. “And you haven’t been masturbating?” 

“No, Si-aaah,” she whimpered as he pinched and pulled on one nipple. A quiet moan filled the room as he traced her opening before forcing two fingers inside her. She’d been waiting to get off for…what was it? Two weeks? His hand moved from her breast up to her neck, his fingers wrapping gently around her. 

“Do you like that?” he asked in a low voice. “Do you like having my fingers in your cunt?” Hermione was embarrassed. Maybe she wouldn’t have been if he had been naked and enjoying himself as well. But he wasn’t! He looked bored but with a trace of something else. Disgust? “I said, do you like my fingers in your cunt, Miss Granger.” He repeated while squeezing her throat slowly, applying more and more pressure the longer she took to answer him.

“Yes! Yes, Sir,” The fingers around her throat loosened, but the sensation of them lingered after he moved his hand away. It was an unusual feeling. He withdrew his fingers from her and smacked her clit hard. Hermione almost doubled over at the stinging sensation, but he held his hand out, palm flat on her chest. 

“Stand up straight. If you do that again, I will make it so you won’t be able to move at all,” he warned. The sensation on her throat retuned even though his hands were elsewhere, and she felt herself reaching up to her neck. “Tss,” he said swatting at her arm. “Put your hands behind your head, and keep them there.” Professor Snape stood and held the iron up to her face. “You may want to get this wet if you don’t want it to hurt. Or would you prefer that?” he sneered at her. Hermione shook her head and opened her mouth as he held it up to her lips. Forcing it in her mouth, he taunted, “You wish this was my cock. Don’t you?”

Gods, she did, but she didn’t want to tell him that. He hadn’t even let her get him off. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tight, but his hand struck her clit again. Letting out a pathetic mewling noise as she drew back to free her mouth, Hermione answered, “Yes, Sir.”

Professor Snape dragged the end of the iron down her chest and between her legs with his eyes following it intently. The magical hand around her throat gripped her tightly as he started to push into her. “I never would have guessed you wanted me to do things like this to you, Miss Granger,” he said lasciviously. “Would you have liked it this much if I had done this to you two years ago?” Hermione nodded reluctantly as he pushed into her harder. “Three?” 

“I don’t-,” she choked out once the grip abound her windpipe relaxed. “I don’t know, Sir.” She desperately wanted to bring her hands down and touch him, but she didn’t want him to be upset. All she could do was rock her hips toward him on each upward stroke. Her knees shook as he started to pump into her faster and harder. “Please,” she began to beg. She wanted him to touch her. She needed him to touch her. 

“Please what?” he snarled.

She couldn’t do this much longer feeling like he wasn’t enjoying it. He was no longer touching her, and it felt like he may as well have been churning butter or something. Trying to restrain tears, Hermione said, “Please touch me, Sir.”  
She cried out when he tugged roughly on her nipple again. Professor Snape then tuned his free hand upside down and stroked her clit, his middle finger sliding up and down between her folds. “Did you mean like this? Is this what you wanted?”

Hermione tried not to lean too far forward while leaning into his touch, but it was difficult. “Yes, Sir.” Just a little more, and she would be there. He continued plunging it in and out of her, and his hand came back up to her throat. His real hand gripped hard with his fingertips.

“Tell me you wish it was my cock fucking you, Miss Granger. Tell me, and I’ll let you cum,” he promised. 

She couldn’t take it anymore. Her frazzled nerves, the embarrassment of standing there like that while allowing him to do this to her, and the unexpected swinging of his affections for her from coddling to almost indifferent were all too much. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she fought through them. “I wish-I wish it were your cock, Professor Snape. I wish you were fucking me with your cock.” His hand returned to her clit and rubbed it back and forth with almost enough pressure to make it hurt. Hermione struggled for air as she continued to cry while she pressed harder into his hand. 

Her orgasm rippled through her, and the iron fought her the whole way. The rigid material didn’t have any give for her clenching walls. It stayed firm and stiff. She truly felt impaled by it, and that was enough to make her embarrassment surge again. She felt ashamed as she came down from her orgasm. Professor Snape had watched her get off on a fucking curling iron while she told him she wished it was his dick. She couldn’t get anymore pathetic than that. Could she? The tears kept coming even after he pulled the thing from her body. 

A gentle rocking sensation soothed her as she cried into his chest. He had pulled her into his lap in the chair. He was hard. Very hard. That should have dampened her self-consciousness, but in a weird way, it made it worse. He hadn’t shown any sign of wanting to have her bring him release. “Shh,” he cooed as he stroked her hair. He must have cast a silent summoning charm because he was helping her into her nightshirt. Once it was over her head, he made her stand to let it fall down over her body. 

Hermione hadn’t been expected him to pick her up, arm behind her back and behind her knees, to put her in her bed. Surely, she could have managed. It was hardly two feet from her. Professor Snape tucked her in and kissed her on the forehead before returning to the chair he’d been sitting in. She was surprised but relieved when he didn’t leave but instead started reading where they’d left off on Wednesday night. After experiencing so many emotions in one week, especially tonight, she was spent. Three pages were all she was able to keep her eyes open through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading this chapter, I suspect some of you will have figured out what he is doing. ;)


	10. Foot In The Door

Monday morning Professor Snape came to send Hermione off to school much like he did the previous week. While she still thought it was a bit odd, she was starting to enjoy someone taking care of her in the morning; she was enjoying Professor Snape taking care of her. It was so bizarre when she considered it, but she felt more special for it. 

Professor Snape was sitting on her bed brushing her hair on Wednesday evening when he said, “I think we should talk about something.” 

That was never good. Right? Hermione asked, “About what, Sir?”

“You wore your school uniform when you knew I would be coming to see you that first night,” he said.

Ah. She was surprised he hadn’t mentioned it before now and had assumed it was out of his mind. I was out of hers at this point, anyway. “I wasn’t sure what to wear, Sir,” she told him.

“And you also called me Professor last Friday,” he added.

“Did I?” she asked. Hermione didn’t remember doing that.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he continued to pull the comb through her curls. 

“Well, you are,” she shrugged. “It’s only habit to call you that, Sir.”

He stopped brushing. “Perhaps, but I specifically asked you to call me Sir.” Was she in trouble? She hoped not. She certainly didn’t want a repeat of the spanking he’d given her at Ruby’s. Her behind was blazing hot for hours afterwards. “Would you rather call me Professor?” he asked.

Hermione took her time responding. “Well…I don’t know. Would you rather I call you Professor?”

He pushed her hair to the side and let his fingers trail lightly down the side of her neck. “I’m asking if you want to call me that, Miss Granger. Does it arouse you?” 

“No more than calling you Sir,” she responded. She no longer worried she may be in trouble, but she wasn’t comfortable talking about this sort of thing either.

“Don’t play coy with me, Miss Granger. I know exactly what you want.”

Then why was he asking? She was quiet for a moment. How could he know when she wasn’t even sure herself? “And what exactly do you think I want, Sir?”

“You want to be a good little girl who has a very bad teacher,” he said lasciviously. 

She shook her head. “I never said that,” she told him. 

“You didn’t have to.” Hermione really didn’t want to talk about this. While he was right, she was having plenty of fun with him without going there. It wasn’t necessary. “What if we experiment a little on Friday? You can call me Professor and be my pretty little school girl.” 

That made her nervous. Very nervous. Her stomach knotted. “Sir, you really don’t have to-”

“It’s what I want, Miss Granger,” he interrupted. “Would you be willing to do that for me?” he asked. “If you don’t like it, we don’t have to do it again.”

Hermione reluctantly agreed. There was no way for her to know for sure if he really did want to try that or if he was just doing it for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It was finally Friday again, and Hermione was more than ready to see him. She desperately needed to get off. The last two days were spent contemplating playing dirty professor with him, which left her in quite a state of need even though she was incredibly nervous about it. When he arrived, she was sitting on her bed in her pajamas waiting for me. 

He was wearing his outer robes, and it only made her more anxious. “Have you decided what you are going to choose this evening?” he asked while he stood at the foot of her bed with his arms across his chest. 

“The bag,” she said. Hermione got off the bed and walked over to her dresser to pull out the black bag. “Would you like to pick them, Sir?” she asked handing it to him. 

Professor Snape reached into the bag holding her eyes with his as he did so. He held the first slip up, so she could read it. Then the next. And the last. “If you need to stop for some reason, I want you to tap on me twice wherever you can reach. Is that clear?” he asked. 

Hermione nodded. “Good. Where is your tie?” he asked. When she dug one of them out of her dresser and handed it to him, he said, “I want you to put on your uniform. You may change in the restroom,” he told her. “You won’t be needing these,” he commented as he plucked her panties out of the pile of clothes in her arms.

What had she gotten herself into, she wondered as she dressed while looking at herself in the mirror. She had only worn them originally to see if he would like it. As for calling him ‘professor’, she called him that for nearly eight years. He had no reason to believe she wanted to do this unless he’d been digging around in her mind. Now, that was a horrifying thought! Hermione was surprised when she walked back out into her room. A large desk and chair sat in the middle of her bedroom. His desk, to be precise, and there was a small student’s desk about six feet in front of it. She was about to ask if this was really necessary, but he caught her off guard when he flicked his wand at her. Looking down at her obscenely short skirt, she blushed crimson. It just barely covered her bits. 

It could be worse, she thought. But how was she supposed to go to class thinking about this…whatever this was going to turn out to be? How was she going to sit in his class and not wonder if this was what he was thinking about? Professor Snape sat in the chair at the desk and said, “Sit,” as he motioned to the student desk in front of his. Hermione walked over to the desk to sit, and the cold plastic of the chair touched the backs of her thighs. “You will call me Professor Snape tonight, Miss Granger.”

Hermione closed her eyes feeling embarrassed that he was still stuck on her slip up, not that she had expected anything else. It really had been by mistake, though. She hadn’t meant anything by it. It was one thing to think about this late at night when she was alone, but it was an entirely different thing to be here in the position with the rather terrifying man himself. “Yes, Professor Snape.”

A sheet of parchment and a quill appeared in front of her. “I want you to write ‘I will wear panties under my skirt.’ Hermione looked at him surprised for a moment before nodding and picking up the quill. “Spread your legs farther apart,” he said. This was going to be dirty. So very wrong and dirty. How was she going to make it through the night? When she did, he demanded, “Farther.” This was definitely humiliating. It was clear that he was going to be adding a few things to the items she pulled from the bag. She only hoped that he would finally fuck her tonight. He could use something else, she mused, but she was holding on to the hope of getting his cock. Maybe she’d be able to see it tonight if she was lucky. “Touch yourself, but keep writing.”

“Yes, Professor Snape,” she replied. Her heart was pounding as she slid her left hand down under the desk to touch herself. Already wet, she spread the moisture around.

“Rub your clit. Yes, just like that. Keep your legs open.” She was having a hard time concentrating on what she was writing, but she couldn’t have cared less about that. He was letting her touch herself. Maybe she could get off quickly before he changed his mind about what he wanted. Once she had nearly worked herself up to an orgasm, he told her to stop and beckoned her over. Hermione made her way around the desk to stand next to him feeling self conscious about her wet fingers.

“Get on the desk,” he stated commanded.

As she climbed up, he seemed to be adjusting his pants. Good, she thought. At least she knew that he was enjoying himself a little. Perhaps this really was as much for him as it was for her. Did he fancy seeing his female students spreading their legs for him in class? Was he the man he accused her of wanting him to be? She nearly shuddered at the though. Those were conflicting feelings, indeed.

“I want you on all fours, Miss Granger. Facing away from me,” he drawled. With no panties on, Hermione felt herself flushing again as she tuned to give him an eyelevel view of her exposed crotch. “What is the regulation length of uniform skirts?” he questioned.

What? He’s the one who made it this short, and it didn’t cover her at all in this position. “No shorter than two inches above the knee, Professor Snape.” At this point, she just hoped he didn’t plan on spanking her. 

“So then why is it that you’ve come to my classroom in a skirt that barely covers you and without proper undergarments?” he asked.

Hermione wasn’t sure what to say to that. Did he expect her to just make something up? He must. “I wanted your attention, Professor Snape,” was the first thing that came to mind.

“And where did you want my attention, Miss Granger?” he whispered. “Here?” he asked as he put his index finger up to her wet hole and pushed it in up to the bed of his nail. 

“Uh,” she gasped. Gods, she wanted him inside her. “Yes, Professor Snape.” 

“You should have asked me nicely,” he scolded. “Next time I want you to say, ‘Professor Snape, will you please look at my pussy?’ Say it for me, Miss Granger.”

There was no way in hell she ever would have gone up to him and said that. EVER. “P-Professor Snape, will you please look at my pussy?” Fucking hell. Whatever. If he got him to fuck her, it would be worth it. 

“Good girl,” he purred. Hermione nearly collapsed on the desk as he rubbed her swollen clit with one finger and used his other hand to spread her inner lips. He abandoned her clit and circled around her impatient hole. “I’ll be more than happy to look at this sweet little cunt of yours whenever you’d like.” She whimpered and pushed back toward him a little. “Was there something else you wanted, Miss Granger?” She was silent for a moment. “I’m not a mind reader you know.” She still didn’t say anything to him. Professor Snape stood and roughly grabbed her by the hair. “It’s only going to be worse for you if I have to make you tell me what I want to hear,” he warned her darkly.

“Please touch me, Professor Snape,” she gasped at the tight grip he had on her. With the ability to become so aggressive so suddenly, he would have her on her toes constantly. Ron wasn’t like that at all. No. He was entirely predictable. 

“Not good enough,” he told her as his fingers traced lightly up and down her slit. She whined. “Ask me to show you what I do to the other girls,” he commanded.

Hermione wanted to hide, but he had her by the hair still. He must have been in her mind at some point. She was sure of it. Her cheeks burned with the shame of her filthy little fantasy. He held her tightly; he wasn’t bluffing, and there was no way out. It would be the coward’s way out to use a safe word. It really would be because he’d seen this and was still willing to touch her, to play with her “Professor Snape, will you please show me what you do to the other girls?” She squeezed tightly around his middle finger as it pushed into her. “Oh.” He withdrew it and pushed it back in harder. 

He let go of her hair long enough to grab her tie that lay on his desk. He shoved it in her mouth, feeding more and more of it into her until only the last six inches were left hanging out. She bit down on her tie as he yanked her hair again while forcing two fingers in her. A third joined soon after, and the tie muffled her cry. Professor Snape was withdrawing his hand completely each time to rub over her clit before roughly penetrating her again. 

Once he’d been rubbing her clit steadily enough to bring her to the edge, he removed his hand and helped her down from the desk only to push on her back, forcing her shoulders and head down toward the desk. He brought one of her knees up to rest on the edge of the desk leaving her crudely spread open for him. Hermione was nearly delirious when she swore she heard him fumbling with his clothes. Was he going to fuck her finally? “Ahh,” she moaned as the soft, hot head of what was surly his dick poked at her entrance. He took a fistful of hair again and grabbed her hip that was resting crookedly against the desk. 

“Don’t forget you asked for this, Miss Granger,” he reminded her as he pushed into her steadily. His girth and relentlessness while pushing into her, made her pussy burn. He turned her head to the side, so he could see her face. Hermione could only see him in her peripheral vision, but it was enough. Professor Snape grunted as he bottomed out, and Hermione whimpered at the slightly painful sensation. She could feel the little stabbing pain all the way in her gut because of the position. The room seemed to spin as he slowly drew out of her before ramming back into her wall without hesitation. Her left hip bone banging violently into the edge of the desk made her cry out, and she found herself only touching the ground with her toes.

Hermione’s legs trembled as he repeated this several times before picking up his pace. The black figure behind her seemed to become more and more blurry as the pounding continued. Professor Snape hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, and she had no doubt that it was to keep her aware of who was in control. Suddenly, Hermione worried that her sopping pussy was making a mess of the front of his trousers, but he was obviously unconcerned. Harder and harder he thrust into her, his fingers digging into her hip. She would have little round bruises tomorrow. She knew it. 

Professor Snape let go of her hair and pulled the tie from her mouth, leaving it like a cotton field. Leaning over, he placed all his weight on her, pinning her to the desk. The hot breath on her ear and the smell of his cologne were enough to give her wet dreams for a month. “Tell me you want this, Miss Granger,” he mumbled as he continued to thrust into her. What? She couldn’t think at the moment. What was he asking her? Winding her hair around his fingers again, he demanded, “Tell me you want to be the one I play with. We both know it’s true.”

“Uh-ooh!” Hermione’s walls fluttered around him as soon as his hand abandoned her hip and jammed its way between her and the desk to abuse her clit. “I-I,” she stammered trying to think, but she couldn’t. Still trembling while the last few spasms hit her, she choked out, “I want to be the one- the one you play with, Professor Snape.” 

He groaned into her ear as he pushed into a few more times. He must have cum inside her, as she noted they had become extra slippery. Pulling out of her, he slipped his fingers down from her clit to the opening of her vagina and pushed two fingers into the sloshy wetness. When he removed his fingers he spread some of the cum over her clit and said, “If you want to play with this lovely little gift I’ve left you tonight, go ahead, but you are not to cum. Do you understand?” he asked, his voice like gravel. 

Hermione nodded, and he pulled away from her. She lay on top of the desk catching her breath as he disappeared through her Floo. Gods. She had a fucking desk in the middle of her room and cum practically running down her leg. The desk she could vanish, but what to do about the other? She wasn’t going to…that would be disgusting. Wouldn’t it? Hermione rolled over and scooted up onto the desk top with her feet flat on its surface. She reached down between her legs to feel the slippery fluid. Groaning, she threw one arm over her eyes as she brought her other hand up to her face. It was only natural to be curious. Wasn’t it? With the tip of her tongue, she touched her wet finger. It was salty and musky. 

It was probably half her, but it was him too. The though made her wish he hadn’t left yet. It would have been less degrading to take him in her mouth to clean him off than to taste him this way. As much as she wanted to pretend otherwise, she was a sick fuck, and apparently he knew it. Was he as sick in the head as she was? She wasn’t even sure if she should hope for that or not. Giving in to the urge, she rubbed herself until the fluid was more sticky than wet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Saturday evening Ron stretched out on her bed while she showered. They had never talked about role play in the bedroom before, and she was curious if he had ever thought about it. Maybe if she brought up the topic, they could try something new. Rubbing a towel into her hair, she noticed the bruises on her hips. Both of them. Thank god she’d seen them before Ron had. It was a damn good thing she kept her healing aids in the bathroom and not in her bedroom. Once she was confident they were gone, she dressed in an oversized shirt and knickers before joining Ron on her bed.

“I read in a magazine that role play in the bedroom can keep your sex life exciting. Have you ever thought about anything like that?” she asked him.

“Huh?” he grunted as he turned to her. “Oh. You mean like being my naughty nurse?” he asked as he rolled over onto his side and put his hand on her stomach.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “There are all sorts of things we could try if you’re open to it. I don’t know that I want to be a naughty nurse, though.”

“Well, I could be a famous Quidditch player and you could be an adoring fan,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her. She gave him a weary look, and he said, “No? Okay. What did you have in mind then? A maid?”  


“No,” Hermione answered. “Maybe you could be a police officer.”

“An auror? So you would want me to rescue you?” he asked.

“Um. No. Maybe not. Well, what about teacher and student?” she questioned.

He smiled at her. “You’d be a hot teacher,” he commented. 

“Or guard and prisoner?” she tried again. She did not want to BE the teacher. He looked at her with a reluctant face, and it was clear that this wasn’t working. “Well I just thought it would be fun to try something new. We don’t have to try role play. We could try something else. Is there anything you want to try that we haven’t done before?” 

He considered her for a moment before answering. “A threesome.”

Yes. Yes, she thought. Oh, she wanted to know what it was like to be fucked by two guys at once. “Who did you have in mind?” she asked eagerly. 

“Maybe Anna. She’s a sixth year Ravenclaw. Do you know her?” he asked.

The thought of seeing him with another girl bothered her. Maybe it wouldn’t if he hadn’t initiated this whole, ‘let’s sleep with other people’ thing. “I was thinking a guy actually.”

Ron made a sour face. “No way! That’s disgusting. I’m not gay, you know.”

“Nor am I, but you want me to be with another girl,” she snapped. Professor Snape had practically offered to have another guy join them. Malfoy, actually. Maybe he just meant for him to watch, though. Still, he was a hell of a lot manlier than Ron, and he wasn’t scrambling away from the idea. “Look. Just forget I asked.”

“What brought this up anyway? Are you doing stuff like that with someone else?” he asked in an accusing tone.

She huffed, “What if I am? It’s not like you have the right to be jealous. You’re the one who wanted to sleep around.”

“You can’t expect a bloke to be okay with his girlfriend doing freaky things with some other guy,” he told her.

“Get out,” she told him. “I’m serious. I want you to leave.” Ron mumbled something as he stormed out. Crying into her pillow, Hermione wondered if that was the end of their relationship. Even if he apologized later for his childishness, there was still a problem between them. He couldn’t or didn’t want to give her what she wanted in the bedroom. She had always thought they would become more open with each other as time went on, but that seemed incredibly unlikely now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Class on Monday had been particularly difficult. Professor Snape hadn’t come to see her that morning, and she worried that he had decided he didn’t want anything to do with her. That was the last thing she needed after Saturday. Just before heading down to dinner, Hermione got a note while she was sitting in the library. ‘22:30’ it read. He wanted to see her. Hermione showered after dinner and spent a little extra time getting ready for him. After making sure she was completely smooth, she painted her toenails red. It was probably going to be a bedtime story night, but she hoped for more.

“What happened?”he asked as he took the band out of her hair that she used to secure it while taking a quick shower. “You seemed upset during class today.”

She hadn’t thought it was that obvious. “Ron and I sort of had a fight. I didn’t sleep with him like you asked me to. I kicked him out of my room before we got that far,” she admitted to him. “I’m sorry,” she said rubbing her face. She hated that she hadn’t done what he’d asked her to, but how could she have slept with him?

“Mmm, and what was the fight about?” He started working the comb through the ends of her hair first. 

Talking about Ron with Professor Snape was just unnatural. There was no getting used to it. “Sex.” Should she tell him more? “He wanted me to have a threesome with another girl, but he said it was disgusting to have a threesome with another guy.”

“A lot of men feel that way,” he said as if to enlighten her. 

“Do you feel that way, Sir?” she wanted to know, but what if he felt the same way Ron did? Being a hypocrite was not attractive in the least!

He laughed, “No.”

“So are you gay, then?” It was a stupid question, but Ron had said…She really needed to get Ron off of her mind. 

“No,” he said calmly. “I’m- open minded,” he finished as he ran his fingers through her curls. 

“Why didn’t you come this morning, Sir?” she questioned.

He set down the brush on her dresser and replied, “I wanted to, but there was a situation in the Slytherin common room. A third year girl vanished another girl’s hair,” he laughed. “Once she was done crying, she was out for blood.” Hermione visibly relaxed. “You didn’t think I was upset with you. Did you?”

“I-I wasn’t sure,” confessed Hermione. “After the weekend I had…and Friday I just-,”

He nudged her gently, “Hey.” Hermione turned around to sit facing him as he guided her. “Look at me,” he said as he lifted her chin. “Did you enjoy our time together on Friday?” Hermione nodded. She wanted to look away from him; she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. “So did I. In fact, I enjoyed you very much. I would have thought that was obvious.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Did you play with yourself after I left?” The look on his face was one she had never seen on him before. It was hopeful yet cautious somehow. When she nodded, he groaned faintly. 

“I have something for you,” he told her as he reached into his pocket. Professor Snape pulled a small phial out and set it on the bed between them. 

With one glance at the silvery blue potion, Hermione looked away. “What’s that?” she asked.

“You know very well what it is, Miss Granger,” he said. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, Hermione shifted on the bed. “All I want is for you to take this tomorrow evening when you’re in here alone for the night. Five milliliters at a time with at least five minutes in between. Will you do that for me?” Hermione shook her head. “I really don’t think I’m asking that much.”

“You don’t think?” she asked feeling panicky.

“You’ll be alone. No one else has to know,” he said quietly while taking her hand. “Come here,” he said pulling her closer to him. Professor Snape kissed her forehead as she rested her head against his chest while curled up beside him on the bed. “How about this? I’ll stay until you fall asleep tonight if you promise to think about it. You don’t have to do it. I just want you to promise to consider it.”

He would stay like this, cuddling with her until she fell asleep? That was too tempting to pass up. She could agree to think about it. But that was all! “Okay,” she agreed. “Why do you want me to do that?” Hermione asked him. Did she even want to know the answer to that?

Professor Snape sighed. “You’re afraid of what you want because you’ve complicated it so much in your mind. Wouldn’t it be a relief to let go of that fear?” Hermione didn’t answer. She would have to think about that. Her immediate thought was that it would not be a relief at all. It would only be worse…but what if he was right? What if it were possible for him to bring it up without her feeling like this, like she wanted to heave? Tomorrow, she told herself. She would think about it tomorrow.


	11. Smooth Criminal

If Professor Snape expected her to have time alone Saturday night, that must mean he wasn’t holding her to sleeping with Ron anymore. She was going to take it that way anyway. Their relationship was on hold at the moment. Neither of them had made any attempt to speak with the other. It was likely that his pride was wounded when she asked him to leave, but that wasn’t something new. He had always had a fragile ego, and it was by far his least attractive quality. 

Hermione sat in her room wearing only her bathrobe on Saturday night after taking a shower. Professor Snape wanted her to experiment with the potion he had given her, and she wasn’t able to get her mind off of it the entire day. Yes, she was curious. No, she didn’t want to admit that. Wanting more than anything to make him happy, she told herself she could do this. It was just her after all, and nothing was going to happen. Her bedroom was a safe place. The only person who could just show up unannounced was Professor Snape, and he was away at Ruby’s House. 

Deciding to do it, she dug the potion out of her underwear drawer and sat down at her vanity while chewing her bottom lip nervously. The first five milliliters were the least effective, but they were the largest hurdle. Making the decision to start wasn’t easy. She reminded herself she could stop whenever she wanted, and that gave her the courage to measure out the first dose of the potion. There was hardly any change, but she had expected that. The more she took the bigger difference it would make. The second dose had very little effect at all as well.  


After seven doses, Hermione was wondering if she had made the right decision. So she wasn’t as freaked out as she thought she would be, but what did that really mean? If she got over her anxiety about it one day, what then? Was she supposed to act on her desire? Surely not. More questions regarding Professor Snape’s motives materialized as she looked herself over. What was his ultimate goal in having her take the potion? If she no longer had to wrestle with her feelings, that would only create another problem. Wouldn’t it? Unless he meant to…No. He wouldn’t. While her conscience protested the idea, there was a sense of shameful longing that lurked in the shadows. The passing idea that he would want the same thing was both horrifying and exciting. 

Hermione, having already discarded her robe, dug out a shirt to wear to bed, which hung loosely on her frame. She climbed into bed and fought with herself for nearly an hour before she succumbed to the urge to touch herself. Soon after, she found herself on the edge of release when she groaned loudly, realizing she wasn’t supposed to be touching herself. What had she been thinking? Fuck! Gods, she was a horrible liar too. She did not, not, not want to tell him. It would have been different if it had been any other night, but it wasn’t. What would he think of her for not being able to control herself after taking the potion?

Sunday afternoon, Hermione received an owl with a note indicating he wouldn’t be by until Monday evening. Not looking forward to telling him she had broken a rule he had set for her, she willed time to slow down. That, however, only seemed to speed it up. Pacing her room, Hermione chewed on her nail as she waited for Professor Snape to show up. The disappointed look on his face was not something she was eager to see. In fact, she dreaded it. When the Floo flared green, her heart stopped. She must have looked a nervous wreck.

“What’s wrong?” he asked before he even made it three steps into her room. 

“I touched myself on Saturday, but I didn’t mean to I swear I didn’t,” Hermione blurted out. Professor Snape frowned at her as he walked over to the chair he usually sat in. “I’m sorry. I stopped when I realized what I was doing,” she told him honestly. 

He looked at her with a serious expression. “Come here,” he instructed while pointing to the carpet in front of his chair. Hermione scrambled over to him and got on her knees as he instructed. “What happened?”

Hermione took a deep breath. “Well, Sir, I assumed because you wanted me to take the potion on Saturday that it meant that you didn’t expect me to sleep with Ron, and after thinking about it all day, I decided I wanted to please you, so I took the potion. I then tried to sleep but couldn’t, and before I knew it I was…but when I remembered I wasn’t allowed, I stopped. I didn’t orgasm. I promise.”

Professor Snape nodded while he rubbed his chin. “You took the potion?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she answered starting to blush. “Aren’t you upset with me?”

“Are you eager for your punishment?” he asked skeptically. 

“No, Sir. I just feel badly for disappointing you,” she told him.

Professor Snape reached out to stroke her face. “We’ll get to your punishment soon enough. I want you to tell me about Saturday night, aside from breaking my rules.”

That was the last thing Hermione wanted to do. She couldn’t help but look away from him as she thought about what to tell him.

“Look at me,” he snapped. “If you continue to do that, I’ll start punishing you for it. You don’t get to hide from me just because you’re embarrassed.”

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir,” she replied. “I took a shower and then decided I would try it. For you, Sir,” she said.

“For me,” he repeated. “How many doses did you take in total?”

Her mouth hung open before she told him, “Four-er seven, Sir.”

One eyebrow rose, and it made her want to look away so badly. “And did you learn anything?”

Hermione’s cheeks grew redder. “I suppose you were right, Sir. I wasn’t as afraid after I did it. I’m still…I have reservations.”

“What is it that has kept you from exploring your feelings in the past?” he inquired.

She had to think before answering that one. It should be obvious. Shouldn’t it? “Well, it’s wrong to want…such a thing.”

“Says who?” he challenged her.

“Everyone,” she nearly shouted at him. Luckily, she caught herself. No need to add to her punishment. 

Professor Snape frowned at her. “That’s certainly not true. Perhaps most people, but not everyone. I obviously don’t think that. Just because it’s different from what most people want doesn’t mean that it’s wrong,” he explained.

“Is it what you want?” she asked. Her stomach twisted into a knot waiting for an answer.

He opened his mouth, but then shut it and looked at her for several long seconds before saying anything. “I honestly hadn’t thought about it until I became aware of your needs. That being said, I don’t know yet. I was hoping we could discuss you taking the potion on the nights I read to you. It seems fitting, I think.”

Hermione’s eyes nearly popped out. So he did want her to take it while he was with her. But on the nights he reads to her. He was right, actually. It made perfect sense. It would be a safe way for her to explore her feelings, perhaps even resolve the issue altogether. The proposition was still mortifying, though. “Just while you read to me?” she asked to make sure.

He nodded. “Would you be willing to take it on Wednesday evening when I come to read to you?” he asked. “If you don’t like it, I won’t ask you to do it again.”

“Okay, Sir,” she agreed. 

“Now,” he said standing and motioning for her to do the same. “We have your behavior to address.” Hermione followed him over to her bed and climbed up as he directed. “On your back. Knees up,” he said. She squeaked as she drew her legs up and her night clothes completely disappeared. He flicked his wand up and her wrists drew together and rested on the bed well above her head while he moved her legs to bend at the knees and drew them in to her body before securing them with rope. 

Hot with embarrassment, she watched as he stood next to her open legs at the foot of her bed and rolled his fingers conjuring what appeared to be a ridding crop. How was he going to spank her with that in this position?

“I’m only going to give you ten strikes with this as your punishment, but I think it ought to be enough,” he said. 

Hermione was relieved. That was hardly a third of what he’d given her at Ruby’s. He must really have wanted to discourage her from returning there. “Mother of- Sss,” Hermione swore. “Ah,” she breathed. She absolutely hadn’t expected the harsh sting to land on her clit. Panting, she opened her eyes and looked up at him pleadingly. He wore a predatory smirk that she found incredibly arousing. That sure was one way to get the blood rushing south, she thought.

“Good girls refrain from playing with their pussies when they’ve been told not to. Only filthy whores cannot control themselves, Miss Granger,” he said. “Are you a filthy whore?”

“No,” she whined. “No, Sir.”

“That’s what I thought,” he commented before he struck her again. Hermione writhed against her restraints. “This is what good girl’s pussies get when they misbehave,” he informed her. He struck her again.

“Ouhhh!” she howled. Good gods! That hurt so badly. Shamefully, she knew she was wet. While her clit pounded painfully, it was begging to be rubbed within three swats. Hermione flinched as his hand came down on the crevice between her crotch and her thigh. His thumb stoked her pussy upwards, spreading her wetness over her clit before removing his hand.

Two swats came quickly, and they made her eyes water. The wetness made for a much more painful stinging sensation that was starting to spread throughout her lower body. Four strikes later, she was crying and wondering what a bruised clit looked like. She’d never had one, never seen one. She only hoped it wouldn’t turn an unattractive color. Fuck! She still had one more to go. “Smack!” the last blow came down between her legs. “Ow,” she cried, mucus threatening to leak from her nose. She sniffled as soon as she stopped seeing white spots. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”

“You are forgiven, Miss Granger.” He said. Hermione lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at him, as his voice came from lower than she expected it to. 

“Ah,” she jerked at the contact his lips made with her clit. She was soaking wet. She wanted it, but it still hurt quite badly. His hot mouth felt cool on her burning flesh. Her legs, still fighting their restraints, were becoming exhausted. Hermione moaned loudly as he drew his tongue up the center of her and through her nectar. 

“Have I told you how delectable your little cunt is, Miss Granger?” he murmured against her lower lips. His tongue forced its way as deeply into her as it could go, and she wished her hands were free to grab on to his hair. Alternating between sucking on and flicking her clit, she rocked her body back and forth as much as she could to ease the intensity of the sensation. There was no getting away. Not that she wanted to, but she was so tender that it was right on the edge of being excruciatingly painful. 

“Relax,” he told her. “I want you to cum for me, but it’s not going to happen if you don’t. Don’t you want to cum for me, Miss Granger?” he asked her. 

Hermione nodded. It was the best she could do. Trying to do as she was told, she laid her head back against the bed and willed her arms and legs to go slack. Professor Snape spread her open with his hands as he continued to suck on and lick at her clit. He was right. It hurt much less now that she wasn’t fighting him. Putting his finger in her pussy and then trailing it down to her tight sphincter finally set her over the edge. She strained toward his mouth as his finger tickled her puckered hole. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

You took seven doses on Saturday,” he recalled. “How many do you wish to take tonight?” he asked when he arrived and sat down in the chair by her bed on Wednesday night.

“However many you’d like for me to take, Sir,” she replied.

“Oh, no. This is your decision. How many do you want?” he asked again.

She should have known how much she had taken would come up again. Deciding it was best to be honest, lest she be punished again. “Six,” she responded. 

Professor Snape nodded and pulled a phial out of his pocket. Conjuring a glass of water and an empty cup, he measured out thirty milliliters of the potion. Hermione took the cup with a shaky hand. “Sir, are you sure about this?” she asked looking down into the blue liquid. When he responded affirmatively, she downed the potion and exchanged the cup for the glass of water to wash away the taste. Her chest felt tight with anxiety, but he seemed rather relaxed. It was actually reassuring. 

“Here,” he said as she waved his wand in front of her. Hermione looked at him questioningly after looking over the nightclothes that were floating in front of her. “Change in the bathroom, and brush your teeth if you haven’t.”

Hermione nodded and grabbed the pajamas before heading into the bathroom. She had already brushed her teeth, so changing was the only thing to do. Wanting to delay putting on the nightshirt covered in rainbows and unicorns, she brushed her teeth for the second time that evening. Unable to avoid it any longer, she removed her baggy clothes and slipped the nightgown over her head. Not wanting to look in the mirror, she walked back out into her bedroom. 

Professor Snape had already turned the lights down and was waiting with the book resting in his lap. “You alright?” he asked gently. 

Taking a deep breath, she walked over to her bed. “I think so,” she told him. She climbed up into her bed, the one he’d transfigured for her once again, and he stood to tuck her in. Hermione trembled as he patted the sheets down around her. He seemed so much bigger now that she was smaller. She had almost forgotten how much more intimidating he was when she was younger. He put the stuffed elephant under her arm and picked the book back up off of the bottom of her bed before sitting back down in the chair next to her to read.


	12. Grooming Miss Granger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be sensitive material in the last part of the chapter for some, but it is nothing graphic. That's the best warning I can give.

While Hermione was looking forward to Friday, she was not so excited about talking about Wednesday night. He would want to talk about it. Of that she had no doubt. It had gone well, but what if he’d changed his mind? What if he realized how weird it all was? Potions class on Friday was the most uncomfortable yet. All period long, she wondered what he was thinking. Did he feel uncomfortable too? Was he regretting asking her to take the potion? Although they hadn’t done anything wrong, a huge amount of guilt was attached to it, at least for her. She had to try extra hard to stay focused during class. If Professor Snape decided their special time together was interfering with her studies, he would cancel their arrangement. She was sure of it. Wow, did it sound naughty calling it their “special time” together. 

Forgoing dinner, Hermione poured through the sex books she had picked up. There was no mention anywhere of using that particular potion. Was it because it was illegal? Should she even ask? The book on the uses of unconventional magic in the bedroom was the most enlightening. While there was no reference to the potion, there were others she hadn’t considered. Apparently, some people like to be completely incapacitated during sex. After reading that, she understood why there would be potions Professor Snape required the women to buy from him. Perhaps that’s what those two women had wanted from him. 

She pondered their situation while anxiously waiting for his arrival. Her mind drifted to their agreement. Was he only doing this with her to keep her out of Ruby’s? The only reason he proposed this arrangement was to keep her away from there. Wasn’t it? While she knew that was true from the beginning, she wanted to think he was enjoying fucking her. She wanted to think he would continue to come over for playtime even if Ruby’s House just disappeared. 

Gods, the things he must think of her if he isn’t finding their time pleasurable. Did he go back to his rooms afterwards and wash off all the filth she’d left on him? Rubbing her face, she reflected back on the last few weeks. He was a guy, so it wasn’t anything special that he’d been aroused while looking at her naked. He’d said he’d enjoyed himself, though. That was something. Sebastian hadn’t been interested in her. His boss roped him into joining them, and he only approached her afterwards to scare her away. 

He walked into the room causally and walked over to sit next to her on the bed. “How was your day, Sir?” she asked him.

“Long,” he replied.

Hermione summoned the bag from her dresser. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sir. Shall I pick?” she asked him. If they got right down to it, maybe Wednesday wouldn’t come up.

Reaching out to take the bag from her, he purred, “I’ve been looking forward to playing with you all day, Miss Granger. I’ve decided to remove everything we’ve already done. It will make it more exciting. Don’t you think?” She gave him a small smile, and he asked, “Still not ready to let me decide, huh?” Hermione watched as he picked through all of the slips of paper. He only replaced the six or so that they had not drawn from the bag yet. Handing it back to her, he said, “Shall we?” Hermione took the bag from him and drew the first piece of parchment. ‘Oral anal’ was written on it. She’d never had anyone do that to her before and wasn’t sure if she would be comfortable. The next one said, ‘Nipple weights’. The last read ‘anal’. 

“Excellent,” he said to himself. A tall narrow table appeared in the middle of her room. “Come,” he said as he walked over to it. Once in front of him, Hermione’s heart rate sped up as he found the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head. Piece by piece he removed all of her clothing. He’d never done that before. Well, aside from removing her pants and shoes in his office on that first night. Hermione squeaked when he picked her up and set her down on the table. He bent down a fraction, and sucked hard on one of her nipples. Far too soon, he pulled away and said, “Turn over. I want you on your stomach.”

As she turned, she noticed a rectangular slot in the table that she hadn’t before. Had he just put it there? His hand came to her back to help her into place. She lay on the table with her breasts in the gap and her hips dangling on the edge of the table. Her feet touched down on what must have been pegs on the legs of the table. A soft, silky fabric wrapped itself around her ankles, preventing her from getting down. Professor Snape came around to the side she was facing and crouched down in front of her. She had a feeling that she wasn’t going to be seeing his cock again tonight. Not unless they changed positions at some point. Was he doing it on purpose just to tease her?

“Give me your arms,” he instructed after casting an unknown charm that seemed to take the strain off of her keeping her head up. It felt as though she were laying her head on a pillow, even though there was nothing but the floor some feet below her. She watched as he fastened her wrists to the legs of the table with silk ribbons. “Comfortable?” he asked.

Was she comfortable? “As much as can be expected in this position, Sir,” she told him.

“Perfect,” Snape said smoothly. 

She couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was focused on something under the table. It appeared he was putting something together. “Ah-“ she gasped as he pinched and pulled on one of her nipples from below the table. She felt him roll it with his fingertip before glancing up at her. He smirked at her, and she felt a clamping sensation that was slightly painful. After doing the same to the other breast, he asked, “You need to tell me if you think either of these is slipping. We wouldn’t want a nipple ripped off. Now, would we?”

Hermione’s eyes widened at that, and she hissed as a tugging sensation left her nipple tingling. The same feeling came over her other breast, and he said, “I recommend you try not to move around much.” With that, he reached up and dug a finger into her rib, tickling her cruelly. Hermione squealed and jerked against the table, causing the weights hanging from her breasts to bounce and sway, painfully tugging and pulling on her little peaks. A slightly sadistic smile was all the response from him she got before he stood and walked around the table. 

The table rose up another couple of feet, and Hermione found herself quite high up in the air. “Oh,” she gasped as she felt a warm pair of lips on the back of one of her legs. It kissed and nipped its way up to the apex of her thighs. A warm tingling sensation washed over her, and she knew he’d cast a cleansing charm. He wasted no time burying his face between her legs, his tongue lapping at her clit. Before she could climax, however, he withdrew. A sharp sting accompanied a series of slaps to each cheek. Unlike a punishment, its sensation was spreading heat rather than blunt pain. He palmed her cheeks and gave them a playful wiggle before diving right in. 

“Oh, gods!” Hermione nearly shouted as his tongue wiggled between her cheeks, causing her to jump slightly sending the weights swinging. The way he was going at her puckered hole with gusto led her to believe that he rather enjoyed this activity. A pair of skilled fingers found her clit and began rubbing small circles. Hermione rolled her hips with what little give her restraints allowed her. She bucked against the table as an orgasm rippled through her. It was empty though. I was lacking the contact she desired. It was a night she pulled her hand out of her knickers to keep from coming too early and not being able to stop it, even though the stimulation had been removed. 

She relaxed into the table as she drew nearer the floor. A hand pressed something to her clit, and as soon as it began to vibrate, she nearly flew off of the table. The weights pulled harshly on her, and she felt something soft and hot press between her cheeks. It was his cock, and it was incredibly slick. He must have put nearly an entire bottle of lube on it. Hermione was almost ready to cum as he pressed into her. The vibrating on her clit was making her clench.

He grabbed a handful of hair and leaned over her. “You’re going to let me in like a good girl. Now, stop clenching,” he said darkly. She relaxed as best she could, but the stretch was almost painful. Almost. It was more scary than anything, as she had never had anything the size of him back there before. When his hands found her lower back, he began to fuck her slowly but steadily penetrating her deeper with each thurst. The vibrating was keeping her right on the edge. “You’re not allowed to cum again until I say. Do you understand?” he asked.

Whimpering, Hermione said, “Yes, Professor.”

He shoved into her more forcefully. “I didn’t know we were playing that game again,” he said into her ear. He was still lying across her back, and she wasn’t able to get a deep breath of air in due to the weight of him. “Every time I think I understand just how depraved you are, you surprise me, Miss Granger,” he said in a silky voice. “Are you imagining you’re tied to a desk in my classroom?”

She panted. “No. Well, I am now, Sir,” she groaned. 

“What kind of little girl wants her ass filled with her professor’s cock?” he asked, his voice dripping with disgust. 

Her legs were trembling badly now. “Please, Sir,” she begged. “I need to cum.”

“No,” he growled into her ear. “What would your friends think if they knew you let me fuck you in the ass? If they knew you wanted me to? That you begged me to let you cum while my cock was inside you?”

Oh gods, what was the right answer? She could hardly think straight while teetering on the edge of release. The vibrations seemed to increase in intensity, and she cried out again. “Please, Sir. I can’t-”

“What would your boyfriend think? Hmm?” he breathed. “Has he figured out yet that you’d rather have someone else’s cock inside you?”

“I don’t know,” she whined desperately. “Please. Please,” she pleaded as he squeezed into her slowly, sensually. 

“Tell me whose cock you want, and you can cum,” he told her while grabbing her by the jaw. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yours,” she panted. She was on the edge of delirium. “I want your cock, Professor. Please.” Hermione shook almost violently as he reached down between her legs and pushed two fingers into her banging the small vibrating ball into her clit. “UH-uh,” she groaned as her walls fluttered around his fingers and her back passage clenched on his cock. Her grip was so tight he couldn’t thrust for several seconds. As soon as she was over the peak of her orgasm, he pulled out of her and stood up. She could hear him breathing heavily, and wasn’t surprised when she felt his hot seed shoot across her bum. 

What had that been about, she wondered as she lay in bed after he had left. The last thing she had expected was for him to bring Ron up while he was fucking her. What was she supposed to make of that? It had seemed possessive and almost jealousy driven. Why then had he told her to sleep with him on the weekends if that’s how he felt? He couldn’t possibly be jealous, though. She knew he didn’t want her for anything beyond the bedroom, and she had even doubted his desire to sleep with her earlier that same evening. Although, he didn’t strike her as the type to like to share, especially knowing a little about his youth. Perhaps that’s all it was. He needed to feed his ego. What was it he’d made her say before? That she wanted to be the one he played with. Was it possible that he needed as much reassurance as she did? 

What if he didn’t fully understand how much she wanted to keep seeing him? How much she wanted him? She wasn’t sure if it would make any difference at all or if it was even necessary, but she was going to make sure her desire for him was clear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Monday morning came quickly, and Hermione was surprised when he pulled a box out of his pocket after he brushed her hair. “What’s that?” she asked looking at the small box. 

He frowned at her and said, “I would think it was obvious.” He opened the box and pulled out a silver necklace with a snake coiled around its chain. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it, but I thought perhaps you might.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. What did it mean? Were they in a jewelry-giving kind of relationship? Was it just a sign of his dominance, his ownership? Or was it something else entirely? “I-I do like it,” she said honestly looking at the little snake. “Thank you, Sir,” she said.

“Turn around,” he said. Professor Snape clasped the necklace behind her neck and tucked it under her shirt.

“Will you come see me tonight, Sir?” she asked feeling more hopeful about her plan than she had just minutes before.

He hummed. “If you’d like.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Later that night, Professor Snape sat in the chair by her bed as she tried to explain what she wanted. “Sir, I was hoping that maybe I could-“ how was she suppose to approach this? “Would it be okay if I touched you?” she asked and waited for his response. 

His raised eyebrows indicated his surprise at her request. He nodded and leaned back in the chair as she stood from the bed and took the two steps over to him. Sinking to her knees, he gave her a suspicious look. Hermione slid her hands up his lean thighs, the fabric of his trousers rough against her delicate palms. “I want to please you, Sir,” she told him hoping he would understand what she was trying to tell him. 

“You do please me, Miss Granger,” he said without blinking. 

As nice as that was to hear, she wanted to please him in a particular way. “Thank you, Sir, but I mean to ask if I can pleasure you. I want to,” she said looking at his lap. 

He looked at her with a calculating expression. “Would you be willing to trade for it?” he asked. 

Shit, she thought. Slytherins. Nothing was ever easy with them. “Trade what exactly?”

“I want to give you a bath,” he answered simply.

“Right now?” she asked confused.

“Wednesday night before story time,” he elaborated.

Whaaa…“Erm-,” she chewed on her lip. That was not what she was expecting. That was hardly a fair trade. “I don’t know if that’s…”

Professor Snape leaned forward and cupped her cheek. “I just want to take care you. That’s all,” he said gently. 

While a big part of her screamed fuck no, she nodded and asked, “Can I use my safe word if I need to?” 

“Always,” he answered seriously. 

“Okay.” She trusted him. She was almost certain now that something more than just sex was happening between them, but she still couldn’t put a name on it. Not only that, there seemed to be different sides to it as well. There was Friday night fucking, and then there was getting ready for school and bedtime stories, and now she suspected there were some sort of feelings getting involved. It could end up being great or a gigantic disaster. 

Watching him unbutton his robe and throw it onto her bed, she lost the questions she’d had rattling around in her mind. He unfastened the buttons on his pants but stopped there. “Well?” He quirked an eye brow at her.

Glancing between him and his lap, she suddenly doubted her ability to please him. With shaky hands, she rubbed against his thighs. Realizing a little help wouldn’t hurt she pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra before returning to the opening in his trousers. He shifted slightly lowering his pants enough for her to have access to his goods. She was anxious. She’d waited quite a long time to get her hands and eyes on him. Hermione rubbed him through his briefs until he was half hard. Not wanting to wait any longer, she reached into the folds and grabbed his shaft to carefully pull it through. 

Even though he wasn’t fully erect, his foreskin didn’t completely cover the head of his cock, thank gods. She had always thought that was creepy. He was pale, unlike Ron who became an alarming shade of red when he was erect. The skin looked as soft as it felt, and the veins that carried the blood within it rippled its surface. Hermione wrapped her hand around it again, and she looked up at him. He hissed as she leaned forward to run her tongue alone the underside of the shaft up to the tip. After swirling her tongue around the tip a few times, he was fully erect, and she wasn’t surprised in the least how big he was. He had felt big when he was inside her. That first time she’d had her mouth around him, he had hardly let her have a taste, but he seemed to be letting her do as she pleased this time. His size had left her feeling quite sore Saturday, but that was nothing to complain about. 

Professor Snape hissed again when she engulfed his mushroom head in her mouth and sucked gently. His hand came to her cheek before sliding up into her curls. He had a fistful of her hair, and she knew he was enjoying her attention as his legs kept flexing under her hands. She drew up for air and ducked down to lick the underside from the base up. Once back in her mouth, he tightened his grip on her as he lifted his hips slightly. She could tell he was testing the waters. Obviously, he didn’t want to hurt her. Understanding he needed her to respond, she hummed around his prick. He curled in on himself at the sensation and brought his other hand to her hair as well.

Letting him slip free again, she said, “Please use me, Professor. I want you to cum.” His nostrils flared at that, and it sent a nervous ball of fire into her gut. She opened her mouth and let him guide her back down onto his shaft. He rocked his hips up until he hit the back of her throat causing her to gag. Before he could pull her too far back, she sucked hard wanting him to know she like it and wanted more. She wanted him to fuck her mouth; she wanted him to cum in her mouth. He seemed to understand the gesture, as he pushed her back down on him and held her there for a few seconds. Her throat quivered around the head of his prick, and she could tell by how badly his legs were trembling that he was finding it quite enjoyable. 

He leaned forward and reached down to play with one nipple while his other hand remained tangled in her tresses. She moaned around him as he twisted and pull her nipple, and he groaned at the sensation of her throat vibrating around him. He was quiet when he came, so she wasn’t sure when to expect it. Hermione tried to swallow while he was as far in her mouth as he could be, and that’s what seemed to do it for him. His seed hit the back of her throat, and Hermione was surprised how much of it there was. She’d felt it when he’d cum in her pussy. Hadn’t she? She had assumed some of it was her, though. Apparently not much of it was. It was warm and salty and thin enough not to make her gag. 

When he let go of her hair, he sat back in the chair with his glistening prick resting against his leg. “Satisfied?” he panted. He looked a little flush, and it made her feel a sliver of pride. More the a sliver, actually. 

“Yes, Sir,” she grinned. She couldn’t help it. 

He looked her over for a long minute. “I’m glad you like it,” he said looking at the serpent coiled around the chain handing from her neck. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione waited in her room while Professor Snape drew her bath. She swallowed the potion while she still had the nerve. It’s going to be okay, she told herself. The butterflies in her stomach were threatening to expel her dinner. 

He walked out of the bathroom wearing his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. “Ready?” he asked.

As I’ll ever be, she thought. Hermione nodded and walked by him in the doorway to the bathroom. She was both surprised and relieved to see it filled with sudsy, vanilla-scented bubbles. There was a little rubber duck perched on the edge of the tub, and she had to fight hard not to laugh. 

Stepping to her, he said, “Arms up.” When she looked at him fretfully, he sat on the loo and took one of her hands in his. “What are you worried about?” he asked gently. She didn’t answer him. “It’s just a bath,” he reassured her. Hermione nodded and swallowed thickly before lifting her arms up. “Good girl,” he said as he grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head.


	13. Torn Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!Warning!!!  
>  The warning for this chapter is for the child abuse tag, but I’m just being extra cautious. There is NO sexual contact between the two of them, but it could trigger horrible memories for some people, unfortunately.  
> This story is NOT advocating child abuse but showing one way it can affect someone. Please remember that the characters in this story are both consenting adults.  
> All that being said, I hope you give this chapter a chance.

Stepping to her, he said, “Arms up.” When she looked at him fretfully, he sat on the loo and took one of her hands in his. “What are you worried about?” he asked gently. She didn’t answer him. “It’s just a bath,” he reassured her. Hermione nodded and swallowed thickly before lifting her arms up. “Good girl,” he said as he grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. 

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest suddenly worried that he’d never seen a girl her age (in that moment, anyway) naked before. On second thought, she hoped he hadn’t! This was the problem with it all. Wasn’t it? That she didn’t know what to think or what to feel. She couldn’t win: there was no right way to look at it; it was simply fucked up. Surely he knew that breasts didn’t appear over night. Boys went through awkward stages too. Right? It was impossible to know what he was thinking unless he flat out told her, but she wasn’t about to ask. Professor Snape folded her shirt and set it on the counter next to the sink. She flinched instinctively as he reached for the button on her pants, but she didn’t push him away. A blush spread across her cheeks and down her chest as he pushed her pants down toward her ankles. She had to lean forward and grab his shoulders to keep from tripping as he tugged her pants off of each leg. 

“Get in,” he said as he proceeded to fold her pants and put them with her shirt. Why were they doing this, she asked herself. What was he planning? Did he have some sort of nefarious intent that she foolishly wasn’t expecting? She trusted him. She really did, but no one, NO ONE wouldn’t be at least a little suspicious in this situation. 

Hermione kept one eye on him while she stepped over the edge of the tub and quickly sank down into the warm water. Using her arms, she scooted the bubbles back over the gap that her body had created in them. Bubbles weren’t the best shield, but they were all she had. She watched as he transfigured a footstool next to the tub, which he then sat on. He still towered over her, but it did make him a little less intimidating. His dark mark was begging for her attention, but she couldn’t focus on it, even if she was desperate for a distraction. It would only make her more nervous. It could perhaps push her over into the frightened category. 

Professor Snape reached over the tub. Hermione held her breath, but he only grabbed the cup, which made her feel silly for being so jumpy. He dipped it into the water and brought it up to pour over her hair while using his other hand to keep the water out of her eyes. He set the cup down and picked up the bottle of shampoo. Squirting a glob into his hand he asked, “Is this enough for all that hair of yours?” Unable to speak from her nervousness, she nodded and watched him rub his hands together before working his fingers through her hair to her scalp. It felt good in spite of the rest of her body being tense. After a good lathering, he rinsed her hair with the cup and repeated the process with the conditioner. “Here,” he said handing her the duck as he reached for the washcloth. 

It was cute and thoughtful, actually, but did he really think the duck would make her feel better? Hermione took the duck but continued to watch him as he worked a good amount of soap into the cloth. Reaching into the tub, he gently grabbed her closest arm and held it out toward him. It was a damn good thing he hadn’t given her a real duck, as she would have crushed it in her grip by now. Hermione’s breathing became shallow as he massaged the soap into her arm. He seemed perfectly content, which did make her feel a little better. But only a little. “Ah,” she gasped as the cloth tickled her armpit unexpectedly.

“Sorry,” he smirked at her. “Let me have the other arm,” he said softly. 

Awkwardly, Hermione turned around in the tub to face the other direction and extended her arm out to him. Once done with that arm, he instructed, “Lean forward.” She did, and the circular motion on her back actually relaxed her a bit more. Until he told her to, “Sit up,” that is. Hermione sat ramrod straight and eyed him warily as he got off of the stool and onto one knee beside the tub. He wiggled her arms loose, which had been folded across her chest as if they’d been glued there. 

Breathe, she reminded herself as the washrag dragged across her collar bone, over her chest, and down toward her stomach. “Here,” he said. “Get your bits.” Not needing to be told twice, she grabbed the wash towel and pushed it down further into the water. She couldn’t even look at him in that moment. It was too uncomfortable. He, on the other hand, seemed about as bothered by all of this as one would feel washing a dog. She handed him back the rag and drew her arms back over her chest. The bubbles hid pretty much everything, but she felt like a distressed fish clamping its fins to its body.

“Turn towards me,” he said. Hermione hesitated before spinning to face him, her back resting against the opposite side of the tub. She very nearly jumped up out of the water when he reached in and grabbed one of her ankles. She had been sitting cross-legged and her lady parts were far too near where his hand had grabbed. He rested the heel of her foot on the edge of the tub and worked the soapy cloth over her shin and calf before moving upwards. He stopped about mid thigh, thank god, and switched to the other leg. Hermione was finally starting to relax when he grabbed her foot and gave the bottom of it a good tickle.

“Ahhh!” she screamed, arms flailing about and splashing water all over. “Stop!” she laughed. “Ple-he-ease!” she begged through her uncontrollable laughter. He let her foot slip back into the water, and she curled up into a tight ball. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes watery. The way he was looking at her made her feel good, oddly enough. He looked at her as though he adored her, and it made a blistering ball of complicated desire flare in her gut. “Can bath time be over now?” she asked in a small voice while looking off to the side trying to avoid his penetrating gaze. 

Professor Snape stood and pulled a towel from the rack on the wall opposite the sink. He took the corners and stretched his arms out, holding the towel up for her. He wasn’t serious. Was he? Yep. She knew he was serious as soon as she heard the water start to drain on its own. Fuck! On shaky legs, she stood. It surprised her when he leaned forward, wrapped the towel around her, and picked her up to lift her over the edge of the tub. Until then, it really hadn’t dawned on her that she, in her current state, only weighted about eighty-five pounds. He set her down in front of the loo, where he sat back down. 

With one hand, he grabbed her shoulder and turned her around to face away from him. His hands came up to rub her arms through the towel before he tugged it away from her body. Standing completely naked before him for the second time that night was no easier than the first had been. She had to bite her lip as he rubbed the towel on either side of her leg to get it dry. He worked his way up to her thigh once again before switching, but the second time, the rough terry cloth material grazed her between the legs. She knew it wasn’t intentional on his part, but it made her squeal and spin around regardless.

“What?” he asked withdrawing his hands from her. “What’s wrong?” he asked her sounding genuinely concerned. Hermione stood there with her hands folded in front of her privates unable to answer him. “Look at me,” he said. It wasn’t a command, but she did as she was told. After a few moments, his expression changed to one of understanding. “Let’s get you dress,” he told her. Summoning her night clothes, he grabbed a second towel. “Dry your hair,” he instructed. 

She really wanted to get dressed first, but then her clothes would be all wet. She used the towel to squeeze as much water from her curls as she could while he poked at her clothes with his wand. “They should expand with you when the potion wears off.” He took the towel and tossed it onto the sink. Professor Snape leaned forward and held out a pair of girl’s knickers by her feet, his fingers stretching the waist, so she could step into them. 

Hermione had to close her eyes as he pulled them up her legs and over her bum, which they were temporarily caught on. When she opened her eyes again, he was bunching up her nightshirt to get the neck of it straightened out enough to put on her. He pushed it down over her head without preamble and took her hands, one at a time to weave through the sleeves. Hermione wanted to be relieved that she was dressed, but being dry made it impossible to pretend that she wasn’t wet. Unable to control her emotions, she started crying quietly. She didn’t want to feel this way. It wasn’t fair. 

“Come on,” he said as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her back out into her room. He sat in the chair by her bed with her in his lap. Professor Snape summoned her purple daisy blanket and the copy of Charlotte’s Web. “It’s okay,” he told her as he draped the blanket over her legs. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Hermione shook her head, her cheek rubbing against his chest. After opening the book to the page they left off on, he started to read even though she was still emotional. He had an arm around her back and one lying across her legs. It was probably a bit awkward for him to hold the book open that way, but she didn’t give a shit about Charlotte or her web at the moment. 

What was he getting out of this, anyway, she wondered as she curled further into him. She wasn’t sitting on anything hard, thank Merlin, so why was he spending his evening doing this? Surely this couldn’t be fun for him. He had said he ‘wanted’ to give her a bath, ‘wanted’ to take care of her. It was entirely possible he was only doing this for her benefit, but why? If that was the case, he must have more than just sexual feelings for her. Otherwise, why would he, or anyone, subject themselves to…this…whatever it was?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione woke the next morning in her normal bed, but she was still wearing the nightshirt Professor Snape had dressed her in the night before. Her head hurt form crying the night before and she smelled like his cologne. She needed to take a shower. With little time, she jumped in to wash up quickly. Luckily, her hair was already clean. Drying charms were the worst possible thing for curls. The little yellow duck was still sitting on the edge of the tub. She wondered, if it had a mind of its own, what it would be thinking right now. No potions class today, she thought. Suddenly, she questioned if he had arranged their meetings that way on purpose. If they had met on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s, she would have to attend his classes the next day. She felt lucky to have a day in between, now that she thought of it. 

She made her way down to breakfast and sat next to Ginny. Ron, who was sitting across from them, was actually picking at his food for once. She hadn’t spoken to him since the argument they had, and wasn’t about to bring it up. She sort of just wanted to move on and never look back. Was that childish of her? Was it immature to keep avoiding him because the situation was difficult? 

“Hermione,” he said leaning across the table a bit. “Could we talk later?” he asked. 

Yes. She decided. It was pathetically immature, seeing as how even Ron had been able to address the elephant in the room before she could. Groaning to herself, she nodded. “Sure,” she told him, even though she still didn’t want to discuss things with him. She had a lot on her plate right now. Didn’t she? She toyed with the little snake, dragging it back and forth across the chain as she recalled the previous night. Even without that, her wild nights of kinky sex with Professor Snape were enough to complicate her relationship with Ron. They never would have fought had she not been having this…arrangement with him. Perhaps they would have eventually, but not for some time. She certainly wouldn’t have asked him about role playing, and that’s what led to the conversation about threesomes. 

Was forcing her to spend time with Ron his way of speeding up the runaway train? Was he fast forwarding their lives to the collision ahead? Hermione looked over to the staff table and caught his eye. He had one hand resting on the table top, and the other was slowly fingering the contours of his water goblet. If he had been trying to get them to the inevitable end to their relationship, she wasn’t sure why he cared enough to do so. He had made it very clear from the beginning, explicitly stating even, that she was not to think of their agreement as dating. And what of the necklace? Necklaces were for girlfriends, daughters even, but not…whatever they were. She supposed it did go alone with the ‘daughter he never had’ theory of why he wanted to play ‘off to school’ and ‘bedtime story’ with her.

Hermione sat in the library hunched over a tome on practical uses of runes when a bit of chatter across the way disturbed her. A couple of younger Hufflepuff students were playing spinning caps. The girl facing away from her had long, silky blonde hair. It reminded her of Anna, a childhood friend. She was a muggle girl who lived in the neighborhood, and she was pretty much her only friend during the summers while she was away from Hogwarts. She had been her only friend before then while she attended muggle school as well. Her parents were successful, just like Hermione’s and worked during the day. That’s how they both ended up at the day care center where they first became friends. 

Remembering she had agreed to meet with Ron, she packed up her things and headed for her room. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say to him, to be honest. More Saturday nights of disappointment were not something she was standing in line for. She decided to hear what he had to say before she said anything, though. “You wanted to talk?” she said as he sat in the chair in her room. Professor Snape’s chair. No. It was her chair. It was in her room, after all. She’d spend many night reading while sitting in it. Their chair, her mind settled on. It was a little on the large size for her room, but it was comfortable and perfect, to be honest, for sitting in someone’s lap. She supposed it could have rocked, but she was a no frills kind of girl anyway. 

“Yeah. I miss you, Hermione” he said with a sad look. “I know we’re completely different people, but I still think we’re good together. Good for each other.”Ron rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I know I was a jerk for acting jealous, but it’s because I’m afraid of losing you. I didn’t realize that before. I just assumed we would be together forever. I think that’s why I didn’t think it was a big deal to see other people…because it didn’t matter at the end of the day. You know?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I understand what you are saying, but I don’t agree with you, Ron.” 

“I know, now. I don’t want to be with anyone else. That’s what I’m trying to say. You were right. It was a mistake,” he said.

She wished this was not what he had decided because she didn’t want to be back together with him, especially monogamously. “Ron, I think we should break up.” Was that too harsh? It was the truth, and he needed to hear it. She needed to say it. “If you hadn’t wanted to see other people, things would be different, but we would probably have broken up at some point anyway. We’re too different.”

Ron nodded and looked at his shoes. “So that’s it then? We’re just…over?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. She knew what was going on between her and Professor Snape wasn’t a real relationship, but she did learn from it that she wanted more from her partner. And more was a possibility, just not with him. Ron left without saying another word and didn’t show up at dinner. Hermione told Ginny and Harry what happened so that maybe one of them could give him a shoulder to cry on. She wasn’t the one who was going to be doing any crying over their failed relationship. It wasn’t new news to her, but it apparently was to him. 

After dinner Hermione dug out a shoe box with photos from home. She shuffled through a few dozen before she found what she was looking for. It was a picture of her and Anna on the playground in the park. Anna sat on a swing with her feet extended straight out, her white cotton dress blowing backwards from the momentum she had built up. The girl had sparkly blue eyes, and she was looking over at Hermione, no doubt telling her to watch her jump from the swing when it reached a certain height. They loved doing that. Her eyes roamed the photo until she spotted the pink braided bracelet with a butterfly charm dangling from it. She had nearly forgotten about it. Maybe she’d blocked it out because she had grown to hate it so much. She wore it all summer long that year. Alex had given it to her. Hermione rubbed her face with her hands. Putting the photo back into the box, she flopped down on her bed thinking about that summer. 

She had spent so much time trying not to think of any of that, that it was odd trying to recall it all now. Alex had been one of the assistants who worked at the day care that summer. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. He was incredibly attractive and had a brilliant smile that made everyone instantly fall in love with him. Unlike the rest of the adults, who sat back and chatted about their weekend plans, he played dolls with them, colored with them. He was one of them, for the most part. He had destroyed their friendship, though. Hadn’t he? The quiet zipping noise of the snake dragging across the chain filled the silence between her memories.


	14. Alex & Anna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!WARNING!!!  
>  This entire chapter contains sensitive material, but it is all from the past.

Hermione woke early Friday morning covered in sweat. She had dreamed that Alex was at Hogwarts and he’d sneaked into her dorm after the others had gone to bed. Putting a finger to his lips, he told her to be quiet and not wake the other girls. She nodded and scooted over in her bed to make room for him. They were both suddenly naked and he had his hand between her legs. Alex told her he wanted to touch her because she was beautiful. 

If the dream weren’t bad enough on its own, waking up wet was sure to ruin the rest of her day. Why? Why did she have to react that way? What did that make her? She was not a pedophile. She was not attracted to children. NOT. But what was she then? Was there even a name for it? What do you call someone who has fantasies about being abuse? Crazy! That’s what. She hadn’t had a dream like that in a while, and she was pretty sure it was because she’d been thinking about Anna and Alex. 

Digging under her bed for the box of pictures again, she dumped it out and scattered them all over her floor looking for the one picture of Alex she hadn’t been able to bring herself to rip up. There. On the playground at the daycare, Alex was lifting Hermione up to reach the monkey bars. Hermione remembered that day. Anna had stayed home sick, so she had Alex’s attention almost to herself. It was the middle of July and most of the other kids were on vacation around that time. For some reason, it really bothered Hermione that she never knew who took the photo. It didn’t really matter, but she wanted to know anyway. 

Friday evening came far too quickly. Hermione wasn’t sure she was ready for another day of the black bag game, and she wasn’t ready to let him decide either. When Professor Snape stepped through her Floo, she hardly noticed him as she was lost in her thoughts. Memories of that summer had been playing over and over in her mind all day. 

Instead of bringing the chair over, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. 

Hermione shook her head. “Sir, I don’t want to play the black bag game tonight,” she told him with an apologetic look.

Professor Snape tilted his head to the side to look at her closely. “What do you want, then?”

“Will- will you just read to me tonight, Sir?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied. Conjuring the book, he scooted back, so he was sitting up against her headboard. 

While that was a new development, as he usually sat in the chair to read, she did have a few questions burning inside of her in spite of saying she didn’t want to talk. “Sir,” she began. “Do you sell the de-aging potions to the customers at Ruby’s?” She wanted to know, yet she didn’t want to know. Would it be comforting or horrible to know that other people felt the way she did? 

“No,” he said. “I don’t. No one has ever asked me for it, actually.” So she really was a freak. “But I wouldn’t sell it to them if they did.”

“Why not? You gave it to me?” she asked him. Hermione was surprised by his answer. 

“Because it could potentially be used to circumvent the law. If someone really wanted it, they could get it somewhere else or even brew it themselves. I don’t need to be involved in any of that.”

So it was illegal. “What do you mean by circumvent the law?” she asked.

“Well, if someone gave another person the potion, then raped the person as a child, they could only be prosecuted for a crime committed against an adult. And that’s if they’re caught. I wouldn’t want anything to do with that,” he told her. 

“So what were the potions the girls at the club came to you for?”

“One was Imperium. It’s like a liquid version of the imperious curse. It’s not legal in the U.K.. The other was polyjuice,” he said.

“Polyjuice? Why require the women to ask for it?” she inquired.

“While you are capable of brewing it, the majority of people are not. It is a violation of a person rights to turn into them to use their body without permission. I wouldn’t want to make it easier for anyone to do that.” 

She still didn’t understand. “But wouldn’t you need the permission of the person who they are going to transform into?” she asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Rosa wanted to give the potion to someone else who had agreed to be the second ‘Rosa’ in her master’s fantasy. I put the hair in to ensure it was used that way.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “I see. Well, that’s interesting.” What the hell would she do with two Snapes? What would he do with two of her? A blush struck her without warning. 

“Any more questions?” he said flicking his wand at her bed to transfigure it. 

“No, Sir,” she replied and she wiggled her way under her covers as he opened the book. While she loved the soothing sound of Professor Snape reading to her, her mind continued drifting back to Anna and the summer before second year. 

~~~~~~~~~

“That’s pretty,” Hermione commented as she walked up to Anna who was sitting on the bottom part of the slide in the park near their homes. Hermione had just gotten back from a summer vacation with her parents in Spain. She hadn’t seen Anna in almost two weeks.

“Thanks. Alex gave it to me,” Anna told her as she spun the bracelet around her wrist to show Hermione the charm.

“Why?” Hermione questioned. “Is it your birthday?” she asked suddenly worried she’d forgotten her best friend’s birthday. 

Anna laughed. “No, silly.” She shrugged and said, “He likes me. He said I was special.” Hermione frowned at that. “What? You don’t think I’m special?”

Hermione smiled at the blonde in front of her. “Of course I do.”

“Hey, guess what?” Anna said excitedly as she jumped up. “I begged Mum to let Alex watch me while they are out of town this weekend instead of old Mrs. Parker.” Anna skipped over to the monkey bars, and Hermione followed her. “Mum said you can come over if you want, but that I can only have one friend there. She said it wasn’t fair to Alex to have too many of us, but I don’t think she realizes he watches all of us at the center at one time.”

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to focus on the story, but it was no use. When she went over to play with Anna that weekend, she had told her mom she would be back in a few hours. She didn’t tell her Anna’s parents weren’t home. When she got there, Anna and Alex were watching cartoons. Hermione suggested they play house, but Anna said she was tired of that. It’s what they often played at the daycare. 

Alex came up with the idea of playing a day at the spa. He said that’s where Anna’s mum was. After explaining what a spa was, he assigned Hermione the task of being the lady who painted the customer’s nails and did their makeup. He was the guy who gave massages, and Anna was the customer, just like her mum. Hermione didn’t get to be the customer because Alex decided it was lunch time after they were done pampering Anna. 

The next afternoon, Hermione came over to swim with them. They had fun, but Alex stopped them nearly every thirty minutes to reapply Anna’s sun block. He said it was because she was fair skinned. But she wasn’t much fairer than Hermione. He told them that if her parents came home to a burnt little girl, they’d never let him watch her again. Alex reapplied Hermione’s as well after she insisted that she burned just as easily as her friend. 

Anna’s parent’s came home, and it was back to their usual routine. Alex played with the two of them at daycare just like he always had. He loved the pictures they colored for them, but sometimes it seemed like he made a bigger fuss about the ones Anna gave him. Hermione’s were just as good, but he seemed to really favor Anna. She was a pretty girl with silky hair and bright blue eyes. 

He often told her she should be a model for the ads that came in the mail on Sundays. One day Hermione heard Alex telling Anna that he could get her into modeling if she wanted. He said he could take her picture and give it to the people who made the ads, but Anna refused. She told him she wanted to be a veterinarian. Alex should have been able to figure that out. Anna had a dog, a cat, a hamster, and a turtle, after all. 

The next time Anna’s parents went away, they were gone for an entire week. Hermione couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy when Anna got to leave with Alex after daycare, though she didn’t know that’s what it was at the time. She wanted to go over and visit them. She hated feeling left out, but her parents said, “You were with her all day long. You can be home for a few hours. Besides, you’ll see her first thing in the morning.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“So what did you and Alex do last night? I read while my dad watched the telly and my mum talked with grandma on the phone,” Hermione said making a dejected face. 

“Come here,” Anna said pulling her over to the frequently abandoned book section of the daycare. “You can’t tell anyone. Promise me.” she said seriously.

“Promise,” Hermione nodded. She couldn’t imagine what kind of top secret stuff they got up to after daycare.

Anna looked around once more before leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Alex said he wants me to be his girlfriend.”

“He did not,” Hermione exclaimed. Anna nodded and shushed her. “You’re too young for a boyfriend,” she protested. 

“I’m mature for my age, just like you. He told me no one would understand, but I thought you would.” she said sadly.

Hermione’s shoulders slumped. “I do. It’s just-“she looked over at Alex who was signing in a boy who was being dropped off by his father. She should have known Alex liked Anna more than he liked her. Anna was pretty, and unlike Hermione, she made friends easily. She was never last to be picked for anything. The only thing Hermione was better at was school, and no one seemed to care about that. 

“If we get married, you can be in my wedding,” Anna announced. “Hey, are you coming over this weekend?”

“Ya, sure,” she said. 

Hermione felt like the third wheel the entire day Saturday. Anna was usually the one person she could count on to include her, so it hurt more than usual. They played with sidewalk paint the first afternoon and made quite a mess. Alex had given her a wet rag to wipe the paint off of her hands with, but he cleaned Anna up himself, taking her into the bathroom when he realized she’d gotten some under her shirt. Later, while Alex was fixing dinner, Hermione asked Anna about what happened in the bathroom. She was suspicious, but she felt left out more than anything. 

Anna said Alex just helped her get the paint off. When Hermione told her she wasn’t supposed to let boys go into the bathroom with her, Anna reminded her that she was his girlfriend. She said her mum went into the bathroom with her dad sometimes, so it wasn’t a big deal. They were in love, so it was okay. Hermione didn’t know why Alex loved Anna and not her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione sat straight up in bed suddenly. “What made you think of the de-aging potion if you don’t sell it to your clients?” When he didn’t answer, she knew. She knew he had gotten the idea from her mind. She had been telling herself HE had come up with the twisted idea and that it was what HE wanted. But it wasn’t. HE didn’t want it. It was just her. She was the only reason they were playing this sick game. “How much do you know?” she asked with a shaky voice.

Professor Snape closed the book and set it down in his lap. “Enough,” he responded.

“That’s not an answer,” she said scrambling out of the bed. “I know you’ve been in my head, but I didn’t expect you to go digging around. How much do you know?”

“Everything,” he admitted shamelessly. 

Hermione had never hated herself more than in that moment. She had never ever intended to tell anyone about that. “What are we doing? What is all of this, then?” she asked him. “Why do you want to have anything to do with me after seeing all of that?” she demanded.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he threw out casually and shrugged. “Why should any of that make me not want to see you?”

“Wha-?” she was at a loss for words. “Because!” Hermione huffed. “I should have known better. It was pretty fucking obvious what was happening. I should have said something, but instead I stopped talking to her because I was…insecure. Do you not see how sick that is? I left my best friend to deal with that man alone because I was jealous!” 

“It wasn’t your fault. He caused all of this, not you.” Hermione shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. “He knew exactly what he was doing,” Professor Snape said as he swung his feet off the bed to sit on the edge. “He was good at it too. So good, that he made you think you wanted to be his victim and you weren’t even the one he was trying to trap. Anna didn’t stand a chance against him. It’s likely that the only reason you weren’t part of it is because…you were always so bright. So inquisitive. And your parents. They were engaged in your life. Anna’s parents didn’t a fuck about her, and he took advantage of that.”

“You’re not being fair to yourself,” he said as he walked to her and led her over to the chair. She was still crying when he pulled her up onto his lap. “You were too young to understand. Everyone wants to feel they are wanted. How you felt was normal. It’s what happened that wasn’t.” 

Crying into his chest, Hermione felt herself rock forward and then back. He must have charmed the chair. Why hadn’t she thought to do that? It was nice, comforting. He was comforting. Who would have thought that she would ever up talking about this with Professor Snape?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have at least one more night of the black bag game planned, in case you were feeling disappointed. 
> 
> This happened between Hermione's first and second year at Hogwarts, which would have made her eleven. I won't say specifically how old she made herself with the potion, but it was definitely no younger than twelve since that is when this all started for her. It was brought to my attention that i may have made it seem she was a bit younger than that even. It wasn't intentional. 12+ years old is way too old to be having someone give them a bath. That activity was not directly related to her age. It was meant to be inappropriate because of her age, but not because of anything he did.


	15. The Master Of Illusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione dusts herself off after Friday night and finds her inner lioness. I laughed quite a bit while writing this chapter, so hopefully you'll think it's more humorous than frightening.

Hermione woke up in her regular bed the next morning and was surprised to see a head ache relief potion on her nightstand. Professor Snape must have gone to get it and come back to her room after she had fallen asleep. She worried what Monday morning was going to be like. She couldn’t believe he had known about all that and still wanted to see her, to sleep with her. Hermione knew people engaged in age play in the bedroom, but she couldn’t help but feel what she wanted was different. There was a darkness surrounding it, and she doubted that other people felt the same way she did. She wanted the darkness, needed it, in fact. Maybe she even deserved it. Perhaps not that last part. She wasn’t quite sure, to be honest. 

After spending the entire weekend thinking about it all, some of the mystery surrounding Snape and his behavior seemed to unravel. She couldn’t be sure exactly when he had learned of her past, but it was clear to her that it was sometime around the beginning of their agreement. After reading her list in his office, he said he had been surprised by her desire to participate in age play, so it had to be after that. When he started getting her ready for school and reading to her, it had all been and still is platonic, which confused her. With the black bag game, he had removed all age play related things on the list, but she had thought it was because he was trying to give her a way out of it since he knew she wasn’t ready. It was the thing that kept her from letting him freely choose what they did on Friday nights. 

He had been testing the waters much earlier than she thought. Professor Snape had been pushing her boundaries for weeks, and she hadn’t even realized it. When he was fucking her with the iron he had asked if she would have like it if he had done it a few years ago. Before he called her out on the desire to keep thinking of him as her professor, he had made a reference to it. ‘Things Miss Granger would like Professor Snape to do to her,’ her mind mocked. It was just a subtle reminder of his role in her life, but looking back, it was intentional on his part. He told her he knew she wanted to be a good girl with a bad teacher, that she could be his pretty school girl, and that he wanted it. 

Maybe he did want that, but telling her that made her feel as though she wasn’t completely alone in it. She played right into his hands. Didn’t she? She could have made something else up, but no. She made the excuse that she wanted his attention while they were playing ‘dirty teacher’. And then what he’d said…what he did to the other girls… I want to be the one you play with. It hadn’t killed the mood for him at all, though. Had it? That was her saving grace, she supposed, that he didn’t find it off-putting. 

And the potion! No one in their right mind would propose that to a partner unless they knew their partner wanted it. It could have been suicide for him. Having an affair with a student and asking her to take that for him. Fuck! How had she not thought about that? Was it simply a Slytherin rite of passage to master the art of distraction, illusion? She felt foolish for not having put it all together before now, but Severus Snape was likely the stealthiest person she knew and one of the smartest too. So for those reasons alone, she decided not to dwell on how easy it was for him to manipulate her. 

Manipulate. It sure was an ambiguous word. For the most part, everyone assumes the least favorable meaning, but there are other ways to interpret it. Manipulate: to handle skillfully. To influence a person or situation cleverly. There’s nothing definitively negative about those definitions. The meaning is all a matter of context. Upon deeper reflection, Hermione came to the conclusion that the context in which he manipulated her didn’t point toward the worst meaning, even if she didn’t love that he had done it. Nothing pointed toward Professor Snape having destructive intentions. Well, except for Ron, but that could have just as easily went the other way. He had encouraged and praised her. He had taken some of the shame she felt off of her shoulders, and he had enjoyed himself sexually in spite of the complex situation he found himself in. 

What she was most upset about was that he had pushed her into something she wasn’t ready for. Sort of. She hadn’t raised her white flag, thrown in the towel, called uncle. She hadn’t used either of her safe words since that time in his office. Was that why he had approached the situation by sneaking up from behind? Was it because he knew she just couldn’t talk about it, and this was the only way he could think of to give her what she said she wanted? She HAD said she wanted it too. She did on that list she filled out. If she hadn’t wanted it with him specifically, she should have said so. This was more of a business agreement than a relationship. It wasn’t about personal feelings. It wouldn’t have offended him. Did this mean she was more ready to confront her feelings than she thought she was? Obviously…and that fucking irritated her. Not understanding him was one thing, but not understanding herself…

The only thing Hermione was able to decide was that she was going to wait to decide how she felt about it all. The only way she would know for sure if she was pissed about it was going to be to go into the next few meetings with awareness. While entirely possible, it was not likely that she would come out of an encounter with him more confused about how she felt about it all. Hermione was counting on her ability to stay focused on him. The only missing piece in her mind was exactly how he felt about it all. Never one to give much away, he was going to be hard to get a good read on. But she was going to give it a go anyway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

After receiving a note from Professor Snape on Sunday evening that he would see her in the morning, Hermione decided she would do a little experimenting of her own. It would only provide her with more insight, after all. It was also a convenient way to skip over any awkwardness after her meltdown. Monday morning Hermione woke to Professor Snape shaking her shoulder. With sleepy eyes, she rolled over and blinked up at him. “Why are you here so early, Sir?” she asked him yawning. 

“It’s seven thirty. You’ve overslept,” he explained tersely as he picked up her books that were scattered around the floor and started shoving them into her school bag.

“Oh, I was up late studying. I must have forgotten to set an alarm,” she explained as she climbed out of bed rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Professor Snape put her book bag on the chair he usually sat in and pointed toward the bathroom. “Hurry up. I won’t be late for class because you were careless,” he told her. He really looked annoyed. Interesting, she thought. 

Hermione went into the bathroom and put her hair up before hopping into the shower. She turned her alarm off on purpose to see how he would react. So far, this wasn’t quite what she had expected. He could leave whenever he wanted. There was no need for him to be late, even if she was. Brushing her teeth, she heard him knocking on the bathroom door. When she opened it to see what he wanted, he was standing there glowering down at her, arms folded across his chest. 

“You have fifteen minutes to get to class. Unless you’re an Olympic sprinter, I suggest you get a move on it,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a mouth full of toothpaste. Hermione came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel and fought back a smile at seeing her clothes laid out on her bed for her. 

“Get dressed,” he commanded. 

Hermione walked over to her bed and picked up the pair of plain white knickers he picked out for her. When she tried to bend down to step into them, she felt her hair being tugged, and her towel slipped. She yelped, “Ouch!”

Professor Snape continued tugging on the tie holding her hair up. “Leave the towel. You need to get dressed. And we wouldn’t be in a hurry if you hadn’t stayed up too late. From now on, you’ll be in bed by eleven on school nights.”

“Wha-” she meant to protest that having a bedtime was ridiculous, but when she tried to turn to face him, he swatter her bare ass with the back of the brush. She hissed at the sting.

“If this happens again, there’ll be more of that in store for you,” he warned in his grumpy Professor Snape voice. 

Was he really disappointed in her? “Yes, Sir.” With two minutes to spare, Professor Snape straightened her tie while she tucked her shirt into her skirt. “I’m sorry if I ruined your morning, Professor.” 

He looked her in the eye at that. “I wouldn’t say it was ruined, but it certainly wasn’t what I had planned.”

“What did you have planned?” He looked at her sharply. “Sir,” she corrected herself.

“You’ll never know. No bedtime story tonight. I’ll see you on Wednesday morning,” he told her before he kissed her on the forehead. “Have a good day, and don’t be late,” he said as he walked over to the Floo. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione was a bit puzzled when it came to his reaction that morning. It wasn’t entirely unpredictable, she supposed, but she didn’t know exactly what it meant, if anything at all. The one thing she kept coming back to was him saying he wasn’t going to be late because of her. That should have been a given unless, of course, he didn’t mean it. Would he have been late trying to get her ready? If so, why? Were they somehow tethered in his mind? In hers? Was he more invested than he led her to believe? How could that be? He had never even kissed her. 

At ten minutes to eleven, Hermione received a note that read: bedtime. Really, she thought. Was that really necessary? Wednesday morning was one of their typical mornings. He brushed her hair, asked about her homework, and sent her off after wishing her a good day. Hermione was thankful that he accepted that she wasn’t ready to talk about last Friday night, and so she was looking forward to seeing him. There were only a few things left in the black bag, and she wanted to see how he would incorporate the other dynamic that was happening between them into their evening, now that she knew that’s what he had been doing all along. He might not, of course, but there was something to take away from that as well. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione was feeling particularly Gryffindor Friday evening. She stood in front of her mirror looking at the black dress she picked out for him. He was going to be there in just a few minutes. While she was nervous, she was also excited. She was still intent on her plan to figure him out, as well. It struck her suddenly that he had always done things in response to her. He was playing off of her wants and her reactions. She knew that, but she hadn’t realized the implications of it, the control it gave her. If she stepped forward, would he step back falling into the dance they had been engaged in before her meltdown? It was that simple really. If she wanted to get to the bottom of it, of his intentions, she could just push him to show his hand sooner. Feeling more herself than she had in weeks, she quickly stripped out of her clothes.

Knowing she didn’t have much time, she darted back into the bathroom and locked the door. When she finally emerged, Professor Snape was sitting in his usually chair, but he hadn’t moved it over to the bed. “Professor,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“You haven’t changed.” He commented on her attire. It wasn’t a question, but he tilted his head to the side while looking her over. His expression gave away nothing. The silence stretched on until it was a hair’s breath away from awkwardness, from her folding her pair of aces. “Am I finally going to get to do with you what I want?”

“No. We’re going to use the bag,” she told him. She waited until his eyes shot up to hers before squeezing in, “Professor.” She knew she was playing with fire, but she was hell bend on getting somewhere. Where that was, she didn’t yet know. 

The corner of his mouth ticked upward. “Are you fishing for a punishment, Miss Granger?” Something sinister filled the space between them, and she backed down.

“No, Sir,” she replied immediately. She wanted to walk on the ledge, not jump off it. Digging the black bag out of her dresser, she decided to ask him to pick for her. Hermione handed him the bag and knelt down in front of him. She leaned back and sat on her heels at his feet looking up to at him with exaggerated eagerness. 

“You want me to pick?” he gathered. “You are aware of what is left in here. Are you not?” he asked her.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, Professor,” she responded. Having looked through them earlier in the evening, she knew there were less than a dozen things left. Almost half of the possible combinations that were left would either be odd and difficult for him to bring together, or they would be uncomfortable for her and potentially leave her unsatisfied. Out of everything that was left, she did not want to see orgasm denial the most. Although, there were a few close runners up. 

Professor Snape reached into the bag, pulled one of the slips out and handed it to her without looking at it. Resisting the urge to look, Hermione waited, still watching him. He drew another and handed it to her. Then the last. “What’s it going to be tonight?” he asked her. “Read them,” he instructed further. 

Hermione had the three slips in a neat pile in her hands. She looked down and read the first. “Clamps on genitals.” Okay. She’d had clamps on her nipples, so it wasn’t too far from what she’d already tried. “Medical scenes,” she read the second slip. She definitely had reservations about that one. That one fell into the uncomfortable category. It was also that particular one she thought might give him trouble. She just couldn’t imagine a medical scene that involved a spanking or a flogger. “Sounding,” she said. Oh. She had not wanted to see that one either. It had sounded interesting in theory, but now that it was about to happen, she felt her stomach drop. It must have shown on her face.

“Regretting your decision already?” he asked. It wasn’t quite a mocking tone, but it still annoyed her. 

“No, Sir,” she insisted. She could do this. She trusted that he was going to bring her to orgasm, and that’s what she had to focus on. Well, that and observing him carefully. Hermione’s teeth nearly chattered when he conjured a chair(ish) looking thing in the middle of her room. It was metal and looked quite uncomfortable, even more uncomfortable than the one she’d seen in books about women’s health. When her mother had taken her to have that done, the lady had her lay flat on the exam table but scooted down toward the end. That experience wasn’t as frightening as she had made it out to be in her mind, but this was different. This was meant to be sexual, and there was a pressure there that she hadn’t carried with her into the doctor’s office. 

His voice drew her out of her musings. “Professors don’t usually give these kinds of exams, but I’ll give it my best,” he said. 

She could practically hear him smirking. He had gotten up and was conjuring more things. A stool, a table, some random equipment that she hoped was just for show. Professors? He was planning on remaining her Professor for this? She didn’t know if that was better or worse, but she had to admit that she had set herself up for it. There was something extra dirty, extra intimidating playing doctor with Professor Snape rather than Sebastian Snape. Had that been how she was thinking of him outside of that one time? Hermione hopped up on the table as she was instructed, and he appeared in front of her with a stethoscope. Unable to help it, she laughed. 

“What?” he asked. 

She answered honestly, “It’s just funny, Sir. I mean Professor.” 

“It won’t be in a few minutes,” he said casually as he reached up under her shirt in the back and pressed the cold metal to her back. She wasn’t laughing anymore. That was for sure. “Stick out your tongue,” he said. Couldn’t they just skip all of this? If he was trying to get her to relax, it wasn’t working. Professor Snape wheeled the stool over to her, and as he sat down on it, he said, “Remove your shirt.” 

This was not how things went when she had done this at the doctor, but she didn’t expect it to go that way. Or had she expected that? She removed her tie, and unbuttoned her shirt. Instead of tinkering with some of the junk he conjured, he watched her intently. Wondering if that meant anything, she reached around behind her to unhook her bra. Once it was off, she sat there with her hands in her lap trying not to cover herself. 

“Are you looking forward to this, Miss Granger?” his tone was accusing, surprisingly enough. “I never asked you to remove your brassiere, not that I’m complaining.” He gave her a lewd smile that made her stomach clench. It was clear that he was playing dirty teacher regardless of what they were doing. 

Oh my god, she thought. Hermione had regarded ‘medical scenes’ as a simple curiosity. She marked it as a one; she was pretty sure of it, anyway. Had she considered that she was going to be getting ‘Professor Snape filling in for Madam Pomfrey’, she may have marked that very differently. He stood up and removed his outer robes while she sat there letting her mind wander to a place of anticipation, of arousal. Hermione covered her breasts as she watched him roll his sleeves up while thinking about how she may have felt if this had really happened…and Ruby’s didn’t exist. 

Glancing over at her, he remarked, “Found your modesty, Miss Granger?” Hermione couldn’t help but blush at that. She was stuck in the infirmary in her head and not entirely sure she wanted to get out. He came back over to her and said, “You can stay sitting up if you like, but most women prefer to be on their backs.” She looked up at him with defiance, and he sat back down. “Fine,” he mumbled. “Makes no difference to me. Although, I suppose,” he said pulling her arms down away from her chest, “I get to sit down doing it your way.”

With that, he went straight to her left breast. It was far more sensual than the exam the doctor had given her and lasted three times as long. Hermione studied his face as he switched to her right breast. He looked as though he regarded her as an ingredient he was scrutinizing. It was far from the look he gave her while she was sitting in the bathtub. “Ah!” she gasped as he pinched and tugged on both nipples unexpectedly. 

He looked up at her with a bored expression and said, “Both normal.” Professor Snape moved the stool over to the chair. “Over here, now,” he said plainly. This was odd. It had gone from being strangely arousing to being very odd. Would it swing again? Backwards or in a different direction? Hermione picked up her shirt and put it back on but left it unbuttoned. “You need to remove your knickers.” 

Hermione hadn’t been wearing her shoes when he got there, and she was thankful for that now. It somehow would have made her feel even more uncomfortable stepping out of her knickers. He took them from her and tossed them onto the table with the things he had crafted. Too afraid to look at them, she turned toward the chair. 

“Will you be needing the instruction manual? It’s pretty obvious, Miss Granger,” he said to her as he folded his arms impatiently. 

“No, Professor,” she told him as she moved to climb up and position herself in the chair, each leg resting on a separate leg rest. Her heart rate sped up as he snapped on a pair of gloves. Could something so clinical be sexy? At this point, she wasn’t sure. He turned his attention toward her. She looked at him through the v in her legs, her skirt slid halfway down her open thighs. Palms sweaty, she grabbed at her shirt wrapping it tightly around her. 

Hermione flinched a soon as she felt his hands slide her skirt up the rest of the way to rest at her pelvis. “This shouldn’t be that frightening for you,” he lectured. “Just think of one of the countless boys you’ve had down here.”

His hands both found her folds at the same time, and she sat up in the chair. “It hasn’t been that many!” she argued. Professor Snape smirked at her as he carried on with what he was doing. That happened to be massaging her gently. After a few moments and a glance up from his him, his eyes liquid ink, she leaned back against the metal chair. It wasn’t long before she felt him push one long finger into her slowly. One finger wasn’t the most stimulating thing ever, but she was getting hot. He pulled back and pushed further into her. His free hand was resting, palm against her inner thigh with his fingers pulling aside one of her lips. 

When the finger became two, she lifted her head to look at him again, her breathing shallower this time. He was slowly stoking her walls, and she shifted her hips into a more relaxed position. “Have you taken my advice, Miss Granger?” he asked. When she gave him a puzzled look he elaborated, “Are you picturing that idiot boy-” 

“No,” she interjected. She most certainly wasn’t thinking of Ron.

“Or are you so easy that this is getting you off?” he finished and looked up at her expecting a second answer.

Hermione sat up again. “I am not easy!” she insisted. 

Professor Snape abruptly removed his fingers from inside of her and held them up between them. “Then why are you all wet?” he questioned. Hermione’s mouth snapped shut looking at his fingers, which he spread apart to show her the string of slick arousal that still connected them. He leaned back down to get back to work. She felt a slight tingling just moments before he applied pressure on her back door. Hermione lifted her hips and moaned faintly. She couldn’t help it. He checked the cavity thoroughly, stoking in and out a few times to make sure…well she wasn’t sure, but it felt good. 

Too soon, he was gone from her, his back all she could see. “The results are inconclusive,” he informed her. Inconclu-? What? “Further evaluation is necessary, Miss Granger. Unless you don’t care about your…” he looked down between her legs, “health.” Wires. He had wires. Why did he have wires? “Well?” 

Hermione shook her head. “I’m sorry, Professor. What was the question?” Either he was bad at this, or she was. It was more likely she was since she’d never done this before. But this could also be completely due to him playing Doctor Professor Snape. This probably was what it would have been like if Professor Snape had ever given her an exam. Was he making a mockery of himself? Was this his way of being playful? Her mind felt blown by the possibility. 

“-ready to proceed?” he finished. 

Fuck. She wasn’t about to ask him to repeat himself. “Yes, Professor Snape.” Incredibly curious as to what the wires were for, she watched him sitting up away from the back of the chair. He tied each end of the long wires into small loops. He stood and moved to the side of her. 

“Lean forward,” he instructed. She did and he seemed to be fixing the middle of the wires to the table behind her somehow. Each end dangled on either side of her so that two loops hung down on both sides of the chair. Returning to his stool, he grabbed something off of the table of junk and swung back around to face her. It was a small metal clip, but it didn’t explain the wires. Professor Snape took one of the wires and brought it around in front of her and let it fall between her legs. 

“Ah!” She was surprised to feel the metal clamp bite down on one of her folds. She supposed she should have expected it, but she didn’t. After a few seconds, the sensation seemed to even out. He had grabbed the wire and was messing around with the clamp. Zip. Zip. He pulled the wire through and up around. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the clamp, but there must have been a place to thread the wire through it. Still she wasn’t sure what the hell they were for. The clamps were far too tight to be falling off. He moved on to the one on the other side. Once done with it, he fixed the other clamps lower on her folds than the first set. 

“This is probably going to be uncomfortable, but, I assure you, it is necessary,” he said making all of her muscles tense. “Then again, I have no idea what you get up to in your free time.” 

Well, that was just an unfair dig! Hermione’s eyes shot down to him as she felt a tugging sensation on both of the clamps on the right side. He was fixing them to stay taut, and she realized what purpose they served. When he pulled on the second set, she groaned, her head thudding back against the chair. While it certainly didn’t feel bad, it felt unusual. Her bits had never felt more vulnerable either. She felt like a specimen who was stretched out and pinned down waiting to be…gods she hoped not dissected! “Ooh!” she jerked at him touching her clit. It was throbbing. When that had happened? 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take these off,” he said while pulling the gloves off of his hands, each snapping once his fingers were free. “What? No objection to that, Miss Granger?” What an ass, she thought. Her cheeks reddened in spite of the fact that she was only a pretend patient. He kept his eyes on her as he found her hot, we flesh again. Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed as he rubbed her in small circles. He teased her entrance, pushing in only an inch or so before retreating. 

“You’re too wet,” he said. She sat up again and looked down at him breathlessly. Too wet? “How am I supposed to see anything?” he asked. He looked at her smugly when she struggled for a response. Before she could get too irritated with him, he leaned down and lapped at her wet core. 

“Uh. Oh,” she breathed, her head slowly rolling from side to side as he ‘cleaned’ her like a cat. Christ. Maybe he’d let her cum soon. That would make this more bearable. Professor Snape added a finger to the mix, and he had to force her back down onto the chair with his free hand. She was coming undone quickly. 

Hermione finally opened her eyes when he pulled away, and she felt strips of fabric sliding across her body nearly everywhere. Two inch wide Leather cuffs secured her legs from ankle to thigh, wrist to armpit. Three wrapped around her abdomen while two crisscrossed over her chest like a bra missing the cups. A little alarmed, she said, “Professor?” 

He came around to where her head was resting and squatted down, so he was eye level with her. “This isn’t going to hurt as long as you’re not jumping around.” That didn’t sound as reassuring as he probably meant it to be. “You want to know what this feels like. You won’t regret letting me do it. Just relax,” he said as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She was thankful he dropped the Doctor Professor Snape act to talk to her, even if only for a moment. He obviously understood that she was nervous and that it was only going to make her more frightened if he didn’t. 

He explained as he wiped a cloth up and down something small that she couldn’t see. “It’s extremely important that this is sterile to minimize the risk of infection. We’re almost through here, Miss Granger,” he told her as he sat back down between her legs. “Just need to get a temperature,” he said shaking the long skinny thermometer. 

A fist gripped and twisted her intestines as Professor Snape’s hands found her anxious flesh. He used two fingers to pull at her inner folds for a clearer view. As the cool glass touched her skin, Hermione let out a little gasp. It was a damn good thing that she was strapped down. She would have jumped up after the first two centimeters were in her small passage. The immediate sensation was that of needing to go. The slick surface glided much more easily into her than she expected. For some reason she had been anticipating a stretching and burning sensation; although, if though if the thermometer was bigger, it probably would have felt that way. 

Hermione relaxed back against the table as he started moving it slowly in and out of her. She honestly had no idea how far it was inside of her. She couldn’t see, after all. It was sort of like being fucked but more…concentrated. It felt fucking amazing. Instead of someone nudging at her gspot, they were fucking it directly. That’s exactly what it felt like. Intense. Hermione’s legs pulled inward against the restraints, but there was no give. Moaning, she looked down at him with barely open eyes. 

“If you don’t stop fighting the restraints I’m never going to get a good enough reading, Miss Granger,” he said. Well that didn’t fucking make her want to stop squirming. Quite the opposite. Maybe that’s what he intended. 

“Oh, god.” He pushed it in further. She could tell now, with the much longer stokes, that he was using the whole length of it, not that it was that long. She worried she might actually go on him, but the thought was gone in the blink of an eye. In that moment, she didn’t give a shit if she did. Hermione cried out when he began rubbing her clit. 

“Don’t even think about cumming on me, Miss Granger?” he snapped with a hint of disgust. 

No! No, she needed to. “Please Sir. I don’t think I can help it,” she said lifting her head to look down at him pleadingly. She cried aloud when he slowed his ministrations. 

“Are you enjoying this that much?” he asked mockingly. 

Fuck. “Yes!” Hermione let out a screech when he bit down on her inner thigh and reminded her to address him with respect. “Yes, Professor. I’m enjoying it. Please let me cum.” 

He went back to the pace that had her on the brink of ecstasy. “If you cum, I get to do what I want to you next week.”

“Okay. Okay, please. Please, Profess-” she begged. She felt the first few waves hit her before she could even finish answering him. She would have agreed to anything in that moment. Luckily for her, she had already planned on letting him choose. Hermione struggled against the restraints as her body tried to buck. Her vaginal walls grasping at nothing was so unusual while still having felt like she was being fucked. His hot mouth found her wet hole, his tongue dipping just inside as her heart forcefully pumped blood south toward him and his dessert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wouldn't have happened that way if she hadn't been in her uniform. He took her attitude leading up to the scene as her sassing him, so he gave it back to her.


	16. Certain Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit shorter of a chapter, but there's a picture at the bottom for you.

Hermione’s head flopped back down on the chair. Her muscles were spent from fighting the straps, and she almost feared that he wasn’t through with her yet. As Professor Snape came to stand in her field of vision, she wondered if he was going to take his pleasure from her. There were times he hadn’t, so it was entirely possible he wouldn’t tonight. She closed her eyes when she felt him manually undoing each strap that held her down. Was there a specific purpose for doing that without magic? She wasn’t sure. 

“Stay here and rest a moment,” he told her. Not needing to be told twice, she sat there with her eyes closed. She had nearly nodded off by the time he spoke to her again. “Come on,” he said. Hermione took his hand to help her out of the chair, and she allowed him to lead her into the bathroom. Seeing a bubble bath was the last thing she expected.

“What’s this for?” she asked feeling worried. Was he going to ask her to take the potion again? She hadn’t been prepared for that, and she didn’t want to do that right now. 

He nearly laughed at her. “It’s a bath,” he said as he removed her shirt and then unzipped her skirt, allowing it to fall to her feet. “Get in,” he told her after he secured her hair up. Stepping over the tub, she looked at him questioningly. When he didn’t make any comment, she sank down into the warm sudsy water. “Lie back. Close your eyes,” he said. 

Half asleep already, she closed her eyes and let him lather a rag for her. She was vaguely surprised when he started to washer her himself. It was soothing, and she had absolutely no idea why he was doing it. Did he really actually want to take care of her? And what did it mean to him to take care of someone? He should have been getting off himself right now. Shouldn’t he? When he reached between her legs, the washcloth was lost in the process somehow, and he cleaned her very thoroughly, massaging her clit in the process. Once he was satisfied, he fished up with her legs and stared to drain the tub.

“Awe,” she complained. “I was enjoying that.”

“There’ll be other bath times,” he reassured her.

None like that one had been, she thought bitterly in her sleepy state of mind. “Professor,” she said standing up, groups of suds clinging to her body. “I’m afraid you’ve wiped me out. Can we be done for tonight?” She felt badly for asking, but she was struggling to keep her eyes open.

“I had planned on reading to you, but if you’d rather I left,” he began.

She interrupted immediately, “That sounds wonderful. I like your plan better than I like my plan.” Hermione laughed at herself as he swung the towel over her head and wrapped it around her. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Saturday afternoon, Hermione was working on her runes homework when her mind wandered to Professor Snape. She hadn’t learned much, if anything, from the night before. She didn’t know what to make of Doctor Professor Snape aside from him possibly playing with her for his own amusement. Afterwards, though, was a different story. There was definitely something there, but she hadn’t a clue what it was. 

Sunday evening Hermione got a message from Professor Snape that he wouldn’t be coming to see her in the morning but would come by at ten that evening. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed that she wouldn’t see him in the morning or excited she was going to get to him in the evening. Out of the two, she preferred the evening visits, just for the fact that they didn’t have to rush. 

Monday afternoon, Hermione glanced up at the head table several times to find Professor Snape watching her. What was he thinking about? Was he plotting something? She had a feeling he was. He was always plotting, planning his next move. Wasn’t he? Although the war was over, she doubted he gave up his spy mentality that kept him a step or ten ahead of everyone else. That’s what she liked about him, though. He challenged her like no one else ever had, even as a professor. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

“I’d like for you to take the potion again tonight if you are agreeable,” he told her as he sat down in the chair next to her bed. Hermione had left it there Saturday morning rather than moving it back again. 

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Hermione picked at her fingernails. “Okay,” she said not looking up at him. 

“You don’t look very sure of yourself, Miss Granger,” he commented. 

“I’m sure, Sir,” she said sitting up straight and looking him in the eye. 

Professor Snape nodded and pulled the phial out of his pocket. He set it on the bed for her and said, “It’s six doses. Like you took the last time.” He asked, “How would you feel about taking it every Monday and Wednesday evening?” Unable to respond right away, Hermione stared at him blankly. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after her silence stretched on. 

“Okay,” she said. “I’m confused, Sir.” 

He waited for to elaborate, but she didn’t. “About?” he prompted. 

“You,” she said bluntly. “Do you want me to take the potion every Monday and Wednesday evening, Professor?” she questioned. 

Nodding slowly, he answered. “Yes. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“Why?” she said incredulously. 

“Because I know you want to,” he answered immediately. 

That…was NOT the answer she wanted. And she did not! Did she? Deciding she’d have enough of his avoidance, she asked, “Are you attracted to me when I take the potion?”

His eye brows pinched together. He didn’t answer right away that time. “I don’t know,” he told her.

“Do you find it arousing when I do?” she asked trying to make him give her an answer. 

He replied without missing a beat, “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” she asked starting to get upset. 

Obviously he understood her frustration somewhat, allowing her attitude for the time being. Professor Snape was unusually quiet for far too long. “Do you want me to find it arousing?” he asked her while still looking in deep thought. 

“N-, I-I don’t know,” she admitted. He lifted an eyebrow at her answer. Clearly he’d made his point. Okay. So it was possible to feel undecided about it all. But she didn’t like it one bit. She just wanted to know. Wanting to get off the merry-go-round the conversation had been, she picked up the phial and drank the potion keeping her eyes on him the whole time. 

Twenty minutes later some of Hermione’s frustration had dissolved. He’d picked out a pair of shorts and loose tee-shirt for her to wear to bed and allowed her to change in the bathroom. After brushing her hair, he picked up a bottle of lotion and shook it. 

“Scoot back,” he said while opening the bottle.

Hermione scooted back, her feet still over the edge of the bed. She laid back and let him rub lotion into her feet and shins. The higher up her legs he got, the more she felt like jumping out of the bed, but he quickly moved on to her arms. Her breath caught when he slipped his hand under her shirt to get her tummy. He retreated, thank Merlin, and set the lotion back on her dresser before picking up the book he intended to read to her. 

“Where were we, Sir? I can’t remember,” she asked. 

“Charlotte just died,” he answered. “Do you want me to go back a few pages?” he offered as he sat down in the chair.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione found herself sitting on Professor Snape’s lap while he read to her on Wednesday evening. She had agreed to take the potion on Monday and Wednesday evening until she changed her mind. It was possible she might, after all. Hermione mindlessly fiddled with the necklace he gave her as her mind wandered off. How would she feel if he became aroused while she was sitting on his lap like this? That was quite complicated. Forget her for a moment. What would that mean for him? Wouldn’t that mean there was something wrong with him? She was an adult, she reminded herself. They were in some pretty murky water, and there was no sign of it clearing up anytime soon. Gods, what would she do if it did happened, though? The truth was, she really didn’t know. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione, having learned her lesson with Doctor Professor Snape, wore the black dress she had intended to wear the Friday before. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if he would like it. She felt pretty sure about it before, but she truthfully didn’t know very much at all about what he liked. Everything up until this point had been about her. Perhaps tonight she would learn something about him. The prospect was exciting, even though she was nervous about what he was going to do with her. 

Professor Snape stepped through the Floo wear black trousers and a black button up shirt that could easily pass for his usual clothes from a certain distance. “Take off your clothes,” he demanded promptly. 

Hermione stared at him in shock for a moment before reaching back for the zipper on her dress. So much for the dress, she thought. “Am I allowed to know what we’re doing this evening, Sir?” 

While watching her undress he said, “We’re leaving your room for a little bit.”

“What?!” she balked at him. She wasn’t about to leave her room naked.

He shook his head. “No. Through the Floo.”

“But Sir, aren’t you worried about me being in your room? What if-” Hermione blurted.

Interrupting her, he explained, “I was unable to connect the Floos in our rooms. Apparently, the founders agreed that professors shouldn’t sleep with their students.” She frowned at him. How was he getting there then? “Instead, I connected both of our rooms to the room of requirements. I,” he said waving his arm in front of him, “go through there every time I visit you.”

“That’s brilliant,” she said gaping at him. 

“Yes, well,” he motioned to her, “I’d like for you to be naked, so if you don’t mind…” 

Hermione continued removing her clothing and asked him, “So are we just going to the room of requirement, Sir?” Truthfully, she was a little, or a lot, skeptical of walking through the Floo naked. 

Professor Snape nodded as his eyes traveled over her naked body. “Yes. I have a surprise for you.”

That worried her, to be honest. “A surprise?” she asked in a small voice.

At that, he seemed to finally catch on to the fact that she was a bit scared. “There’s no need to be afraid. It’s just us, and we can stop if you need to. You don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want. You do remember that. Don’t you?”

“Right,” she nodded. She did trust him. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous. Hermione took his hand when he offered it and walked the few steps over to her Floo. Professor Snape pulled her though, and it took her a minute for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There wasn’t much light, but she could see well enough as the room wasn’t very big. She looked up at him questioningly, but he seemed focused elsewhere. 

“I think it is best you lay on the floor. In the middle there,” he told her. Hermione looked around. They were standing in what couldn’t be described as anything but a concrete box, an empty cell with only a grate in the floor that must have served as the Floo they came through. “It’s not cold. Go on,” he insisted. 

Nervously, Hermione took a few steps forward to the middle of the small room and sat looking up at him. He nodded, so she did as he asked and lay down on the floor. A clanking sound echoed about, and metal hardware , eye hooks specifically, emerged around her in a square pattern. Professor Snape stepped forward to her before kneeling down. He clipped a metal chain to one of the hooks in the ground and took her arm. Placing a metal cuff around her wrist, he measured the chain and affixed her cuff to it, leaving only inches of slack for her to wiggle about. 

Within minutes, he was on the last cuff that he secured around her left ankle. She was spread, arms and legs stretched but not uncomfortably so. A stool appeared up against the wall centered between her feet. Hermione was wondering what the hell he had planned when he came back up toward her face, leaning over her. 

Professor Snape uncharacteristically pushed his hair on one side behind his ear so they could see each other more clearly. “I want you to take a potion for me, but I’m not going to tell you what it does. It’s generally considered to be quite an amazing experience, but it’s quite expensive to brew because of the ingredients. Not many people are familiar with it,” he told her.

Hermione nodded and he continued, “If for any reason you want to stop use one of your safe words, and I’ll give you the antidote. NOT-,” he held up his hand, “that it’s poison. It just reverses the affects. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said looking into his black eyes. 

“I’m going to be right there,” he pointed to the stool, “the whole time.” He uncorked a small bottle and held it to her lips while propping her head up with one hand. Hermione swallowed the potion easily. It was thin and watery with a clove aftertaste. “Good,” he said. Professor Snape stood and walked to the stool. As he sat down, he instructed, “I want you to keep looking at me. It may become difficult, and that’s fine. But try to bring your focus back to me when you realize it has wandered. It’s going to take effect soon. Remember that I’m right here.”


	17. Down The Rabbit Hole

!!!WARNING!!! Underage and non con elements throughout the entire chapter. I added a section to the bottom of the chapter about Snape and his background in the story. If you don’t want to read the chapter, you can skip down to the bottom. The end of the chapter is marked. 

For those of you who want to read the chapter… There are FIVE scenarios playing out, and I jumped around a lot (in sequence) intentionally. I hope that makes it easier to follow. Just know you are not losing it. Keep reading. It will come together at the end of the chapter. (I hope ) 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“I want you to keep looking at me. It may become difficult, and that’s fine. But try to bring your focus back to me when you realize it has wandered. It’s going to take effect soon. Remember that I’m right here.”

Hermione lay there trying to relax. She took several deep breaths, but nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of the room moving, turning on its side. She was upright and chained to the wall, but Professor Snape was somehow on the stool on the ground as if he had his own center of gravity. Had she really moved or had he? She blinked hard as he became a little hazy. Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to shake the blurriness. 

When she opened her eyes she was standing next to Professor Snape’s desk waiting for him to finish marking the essay he was obliterating. As she toyed with the hem of her skirt, he glanced over at the motion, his eyes drawn to the exposed parts of her thighs. 

“I’m here for my detention, Professor,” she reminded him. “Shall I start scrubbing cauldrons?”

Professor Snape leaned back in his chair as he said, “They are already clean, Miss Granger.” One of his hands was on the armrest of his chair, the other on the desk still holding his quill. He sat with his legs spread apart as he rolled the quill stem between his fingers. 

Hermione looked down feeling ashamed when she found herself in a bathtub full of bubbles. Professor Snape was lathering soap into the washcloth. She wondered how they had gotten to her bathroom so quickly. They had literally just been in his classroom. And what had she done to earn a detention? She didn’t remember taking the potion either, she thought as looked down at herself in the tub. 

“Play with your ducky,” he said as he handed it to her. Hermione took the duck and sat there stiffly as he worked the soap into her tummy and over her chest, the cloth scratching at her nipples. “Have you thought of a name for him yet?” Professor Snape asked. 

“Who,” she asked, but she was suddenly standing in the storage room in the potions lab. Hermione heard the door to the small room click shut behind her and turned to see who was there. Professor Snape, no longer kneeling beside the tub, was dressed in his teaching robes leaning against the door with an irritated expression. 

“You know perfectly well who,” he chided darkly. “Did you think I would just let you continue to get away with it?” he asked her as he approached her slowly, backing her into the shelves behind her. 

A jar fell to the floor at her feet shattering into a sharp and dusty mess. “Get away with what, Sir?” she asked feeling both confused and scared. She closed her eyes and cringed as he snarled at her. 

When she opened her eyes again she was staring at a page littered with ink. A book. Alice in Wonderland, judging by the title of the chapter: Advice from a Caterpillar. Peaking over it, she saw Professor Snape. He was rubbing her feet as they rested in his lap while she relaxed on the couch with him. Giggling, she pulled one foot away from him after he grazed the arch. She was younger again, she realized. How did that keep happening? Hermione set the book down on her lap and looked at him curiously as he drew her foot back to his lap. She could feel something hard against the side of her foot. Taking her other foot in his hands, he asked, “All finished reading, Princess?” 

Princess? When had he started calling her that, she wondered as she looked up to her wrists, which were being tied together above her head. Sebastian’s hands trailed down her arms to her ribs after he’d secured them. “I warned you, Miss Granger, about what could happen if you were to return here. Did you ever stop to think that I might be one of those death eaters who’d take what I wanted, share you, and leave you strung up for anyone else who just happened to wander by?” He chuckled darkly as a second man entered the room.

“That’s not funny. Let me go!” she shouted. 

Sebastian forced something round into her mouth. “None of that, now,” he corrected her as he reached around her head to fasten the thing securely. 

“The language you used in my classroom today was unacceptable.” Wait. Was that why she’d been gagged? Where did the gag go, anyway? “If you didn’t want your mouth to be treated like a filthy whore’s, you shouldn’t have used it to say such dirty things. Perhaps you’ll think before you speak after tonight,” he explained as he reached for his belt. “Get on your knees,” he demanded. 

Hermione sank to her knees behind his desk obediently, watching him unbutton his trousers and reach into his briefs. If he thought this was some sort of punishment for her, he was mistaken. She eagerly grabbed his thighs and leaned forward as he freed himself. 

Hermione shook her head while she looked down at the duck in her hands. 

“What about Wilbur, like the pig?” he suggested as he slid the washcloth down her leg. 

“The one from Charlotte’s Web?” she asked incredulously. 

“What other pigs do we know?” he questioned.

He was right. She didn’t know any other pigs, actual pigs. “But he isn’t a pig. He’s a duck,” she argued as he switched legs and worked his way up her thigh. “I like Henry,” she stated. She sucked in a sharp breath as he reached between her legs. 

“You’ve been toying with me for weeks because you think it’s funny.” He stepped into her, pinning her to the shelves, one of them digging into her back while his erection dug into her hip. 

“No,” she protested. “That’s not true.” Professor Snape dragged his fingertips up her left thigh not stopping at the hem of her skirt. Hermione pushed him back. “Stop,” she said as she tried to move away from him. 

He wasn’t about to let her go. Grabbing her arm in a bruising grip, he said, “I don’t think so, Miss Granger.” She struggled to get free, so he pushed her into the wall. Hermione continued to fight him as he forced her to the ground. “You’re just going to have to learn the hard way that there are some wizards you shouldn’t tease,” he explained in an oily voice as he pinned her arms to the ground, one hand easily restraining both wrists. 

“Please stop!” she cried as his free hand slithered over her breast giving it a painful squeeze before moving lower to push her skirt up in the front. Why the hell hadn’t she been wearing knickers to class?

His expression shifted to one of contentment. Hermione nodded and moved the book to the coffee table. Incredibly curious, she played dumb and asked, “What’s that?” she asked as she rubbed her foot over the lump in his trousers. 

He groaned before grabbing her foot to hold it still. “That is just something that happens when you’ve been a good girl for me,” he answered knowing she was way to inquisitive to leave it at that. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Biting her lip, she pulled her legs away from him to sit up on her knees. “I want to see,” she demanded. “Please?” she pouted when he gave her a disapproving look. 

“Please,” Hermione tried to beg, but it was muffled by the gag. Sebastian vanished her clothes leaving her hanging there naked in front of them. He was tall and dark, while the other man was shorter with a more muscular build. The other man circled around her, his eyes drinking her in. His hum of approval made her skin crawl. “Ahh,” she cried as Sebastian twisted her nipples, causing a sharp pain to shoot through her chest. 

A loud slap echoed in the room, and Hermione shifted her weight as much as she could to get her burning bum away from the man behind her. 

“Nice little ass this one has,” he remarked. 

Sebastian looked as if he were considering something before he spoke. “You can take the back if you’d like,” he offered generously as he reached forward, pressing his middle finger between her folds. “Wet already,” he sneered. “Perhaps she already knows this is all she’s good for.”

Hermione moaned and let her head roll back as he pushed his fingers into her, while the other man rubbed his erection into the cleft of her ass. 

The bulbous head was nearly weeping. She leaned forward and sucked gently on the side of his shaft. Saving the wet tip for last, Hermione kissed her way down to his balls. She licked and kissed them before drawing one into her mouth. 

“Uh,” Professor Snape grunted. His hand moved from his desk to her cheek. “Enough stalling,” he cautioned, “unless you’d like detention with Filch.” 

Not wanting him to send her away, especially to Filch, she abandoned his sac and closed her lips around the head of his cock. The hand on her cheek came up to the back of her head. Professor Snape pushed her down on his cock as he lifted his hips. Gagging, her body tried to force him out. 

Still deep in her mouth, he groaned as he held her down, her throat squeezing him. All the blood rushed to her head. “Stop trying to fight it,” he instructed as he let her up for air finally. “You know you deserve this punishment.”

Hermione fell forward on her hands. She tried to calm her breathing as she stayed there on all fours. 

“Henry is a good name,” he announced as he rubbed the cloth against her bits. 

The tingling feeling he was causing made her feel uncertain. “What are you doing?” she asked as she pushed his hand away.

Professor Snape looked at her in confusion with his brows pinched together. “Your princess parts need to be wash. They get dirty too, you know.” He looked at her pointedly. 

Hermione nodded and held her breath as he returned his hand to her bits. Washcloth forgotten, he used his fingers to slide between her folds, rubbing her clean. She was apparently far dirtier than she thought down there. She felt unsure at first, but as she relaxed, she realized it felt nice. Better than her washing her own bits, anyway. 

Professor Snape wiggled his fingers between her legs as he shifted his weight to the side. Hermione tried to squirm her way out of his grasp while he worked his trousers undone. The cold stone floor bit at her bare legs, and all she could do was beg. “Please, Professor. I’m sorry,” she said. 

“Not good enough,” he barked as he lay back down on her while adjusting his position between her legs. “Did you think you could just keep flashing that little cunt at me without any consequences? Did you think I wasn’t going to get fed up and just take what I wanted from you?” he asked as he started to push into her, bits of broken glass digging into her shoulder as he lay his weight on her more fully. 

Hermione cried out at the intrusion that she wasn’t nearly wet enough for. As he forced himself deeper into her, her body scooted painfully across the pieces of the shattered jar. 

“Shut up,” he barked at her before covering her mouth with his free hand. Her cries and pleas didn’t go further than his palm as he plunged into her hell bent on revenge for her cock teasing. 

He moved his hand to her cheek to stroke it lovingly. “Maybe when you’re a little older, Princess,” he laughed lightly.

“That’s not fair. You said I was a good girl,” she whined. Hermione gave him her most pathetic pout, the one she knew he couldn’t resist. 

Professor Snape sighed, “You’re a very good girl. You’re right.” He looked at her debating giving her what she wanted. “Just this once, Okay?” he gave in. “I don’t want you to be asking me to see it all the time.” 

She leaned down on her elbows with her hands propping up her head as she watched him unbutton his pants. Her eyes went wide as he pulled himself out for her. “Does it always look like that?” she asked as she leaned in for a closer look knowing her breath was tickling him. 

“Well, it’s a bit swollen at the moment,” he explained. 

She frowned. “Does it hurt?”

Professor Snape hesitated before he said, “Sort of.” 

“Can I touch it,” she asked excitedly. Hermione looked up at him. His expression was hard to read. He shook his head. “Please,” she begged. She really appreciated he was willing to play this game with her, for her. Part of the fun was not knowing how he was going to let it all unfold.

“Alright,” he huffed. 

Biting her lip, she reached out and felt along the side of it. It was velvet-soft and warm. He made a funny noise, so she pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry,” she apologized fearing she hurt him. 

He grabbed her hand and said, “No. It felt nice. It’s okay.” He guided her hand back to him and placed it on the head, precum spreading onto the middle of her palm. “Hold it like this,” he instructed, sliding their hands down around the shaft. “And then move your hand up and down. Gently,” he said. His hand encompassed nearly all of hers. “You can taste it if you’d like,” he offered. Some girls like the way it tastes. 

Hermione looked down as Sebastian freed himself while still keeping his pants on. From the sound of it, the other man was doing the same. “I hope, for your sake, you’ve learned to take it in the ass. Otherwise this is probably going to hurt,” he chuckled as he grabbed both of her legs and wrapped them around his waist. 

Hermione tried to wiggle free, but the man behind her grabbed her legs and held them still while Sebastian buried his cock in her wet pussy. It wasn’t her fault she was wet. There had been a bit of foreplay before he’d strung her up. 

Sebastian nodded to the other man. Not understanding, Hermione bucked into Sebastian as the other man smeared some sort of lubricant on her backside. “Nnnn,” she protested and struggled as he pressed the tip of his cock to her tight hole. “Hee,” she tried to beg them. 

Her wiggling only made his entrance easier. Stretched tight, she could hardly breathe. The sensation was overwhelming. Leaning forward, she rested her head on Sebastian’s chest and moaned as he withdrew from her. As he pushed into her again, the man behind her pulled out. Hermione went limp as they used her body. 

“Yes, Professor,” she panted sitting up and wiping the drool from her chin. 

“No,” he stopped her. “Leave it,” he said as he pulled her back down toward his lap. “Open that filthy mouth of your,” he growled as he jerked on her hair. Doing as she was told, she opened her mouth to accept him. He pushed her farther this time, his pubic hair tickling her nose. His free hand came to her cheek, his finger stretching down onto her neck. 

Unable to breathe, she pushed on his thighs trying to get up. He growled as he fought her struggling for a few more seconds. Hermione gasped for air as she came up, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head as he pulled her back down. 

“We’re almost finished,” he reassured her. Grabbing her by the chin he straightened her out. “Open your mouth,” he barked impatiently. When she did, he guided her down on his prick, both hands holding her head in place. While he wasn’t pushing her as far down, he was thrusting up into her slightly. Hermione’s eyes watered, and her nose ran as Professor Snape spurted into her throat. 

With no choice but to swallow, she did just before he pushed her off of him. She fell backwards into a sitting position on the cold floor.

One finger started to push into her, and she reached down into the soapy water to grab his hand. 

“We have to get the inside,” he told her with a look of bewilderment. 

Letting his hand go, Hermione struggle to fight off the feeling of arousal. She struggled to accept it, to welcome it. As he pushed one finger inside of her princess parts, she clamped down around him. 

“Uhhh,” he groaned. Hermione looked at him fretfully. “It’s okay. That’s supposed to happen,” he explained. When she relaxed, he moved his finger in and out, never pushing past the second knuckle. Hermione whimpered at the new feeling, and he shushed her trying to be reassuring. 

Professor Snape finally let go of her mouth, and she groaned as he ran his hand down to her leg, “Please. Pease,” she pleaded, unsure of what she wanted. 

He pulled her leg up around his hip to penetrate her more deeply. “That’s right. Beg me,” he demanded. Hermione shook her head. “Don’t tell me no. I know you’re loving this…wet like the little slut you are,” he spat as he pounded her into the ground. 

Her professor was ravaging her on the filthy floor of a storage room, and she was fighting off an orgasm. If she came around him, he’d be right. He groaned loudly with his release, and her resolve started to slip.

Sticking her tongue out, she glided it across the wet head. It was salty and slick. He seemed to go almost rigid in response. “Do you like it, Princess?” he asked breathlessly. Hermione nodded. “If you keep doing that, more is going to come out,” he promised.

Curious, she licked the tip of his cock again while she watched him. His arms were straight out, pushing himself against the back of the couch. 

“Fuck,” he panted. 

She looked back up at him.“Like that?” she asked. 

“It works better if you put your mouth around it while you’re licking,” he explained, his face a forced blank. 

She closed her lips around the throbbing tip and swiped her tongue over it. He groaned as he cradled her cheek with his hand, and his hips came up off the couch a little.

Sebastian and the other masked man changed their rhythm, and they were both pushing into and pulling out of her at the same time. Wanting to close her legs, she squeezed them around Sebastian’s waist. It only served to spur him on, as he gripped her tighter. 

“This is what we do to little cubs who wander too far from the lion’s den. Or did you know that already?” he asked her. Hermione sobbed as he nuzzled into her neck. “Did you come here wanting to be filled with cum, Miss Granger?”

She couldn’t answer him. Too tired to fight, too humiliated to answer, she screamed a broken and half hearted protest as she began to lose control, her legs shaking.

Hermione jerked, tugging on her restraints as she felt a hand press flat on her back and work its way around her rib to grab her breast. She couldn’t help but look down, and she was confused to see both his hand on her and him sitting a few feet away on the stool. “Do you like that, Miss Granger?” his voice came from the other side of her. When she turned her head, she was staring into his onyx eyes. “How did you do that?” she asked him.

“How did I do what?” he asked, his voice coming from down between her legs. Her head snapped back, and she found him on the stool again. 

“OH,” she breathed, her legs trembling as the sensation of his hands caressing up her thighs washed over her. His lips touched her hip and kissed gently. He nibbled on her delicate skin.

“Look at me, Miss Granger,” Professor Snape said from the stool against the wall. 

“Tell me you want it,” he commanded. Hermione looked down between her legs, and he was there, his hot breath ghosting across her bare sex. 

“Look at me, Miss Granger,” he said again. 

Hermione forced herself to look at him sitting there as opposed to hovering near her sex. “God!” she gasped as his tongue slid over her clit. 

Her nipple was being sucked into his mouth, but when she looked down, she was surprised at what she saw. Hermione trembled as she watched him swirl his tongue around her slightly puffy nipple. “Wha-” His hand traveled up her stomach, over her flat chest and worked its way into the curls at the nape of her neck. His sucked on her neck as his other hand approached the apex of her thighs. “Uhh,” she whined in agonizing pleasure.

Professor Snape commanded again, “Look at me!” 

Forcing her eyes back open, he was gone. No. He was sitting on the stool. “You were touching me,” whispered.

“I haven’t moved, Miss Granger. Your mind is projecting what it wants to see, what it wants to feel. What it wants to hear,” he explained. 

“I’m…hallucinating?” she asked him unable to come to any other conclusion.

“Yes,” he answered simply. 

“This is what good little girls get,” his silky voice whispered in her ear. He pushed into her from behind, his hands on her slender hips. Hermione looked down at her hard nipples. She didn’t think she could stretch anymore, take any more of his cock. 

She begged, “Please.” His hands caressed her; his lips trailed kisses over her flesh. “Please.”

“Please what, Miss Granger?” Professor Snape asked sounding slightly concerned. 

“Please touch me. I want you to touch me,” she begged him.

Hermione drew her gaze back to him, the one sitting on the stool, and was relieved when he stood and walked toward her. Somehow, the room shifted like a rocking boat, righting itself with her on the ground and him leaning over her. 

As he reached down and rubbed her clit, she stared into his eyes. They were black, pupils blown wide. His other hand joined in, his fingers pushing into her. He worked her like a well oiled machine, circling and pumping until she came undone. Hermione let out a horse cry as she came round his fingers. Trying to breathe and slow her heart rate, his dissolving form didn’t alarm her. Her focus was elsewhere. It was on herself. 

“I’m impressed, Miss Granger,” Professor Snape said standing up from the stool. “That must be some sort of record.” When he knelt down beside her and saw her confusion he continued, “I’ve never seen anyone last that long without having an orgasm. Then again you were fighting it most of the way.” He worked at unfastening each of her restraints while he explained, “The potion doesn’t wear off until you’ve achieved orgasm. I imagine you’re exhausted.” 

“Yes,” Hermione agreed. “Thank you for helping me then, Sir. I don’t know how much more I could have taken of that,” she admitted.

He laughed at her lightly. “I didn’t DO anything. I was right over there the whole time, just like I said I would be. The potion showed you what you wanted to see.”

What she wanted to see? While she started to contemplate that, he scooped her up and returned her to her room. Professor Snape pulled out a night shirt and pair of knickers and helped her dress. He waited for her while she finished getting ready for bed in the bathroom. When she came out of the bathroom he had already turned the lights down and was sitting at the foot of her bed with the covers pulled down for her. Hermione climbed in wishing that she could kiss him for the first time, though she wasn’t sure why now and not any other time. As he pulled the blanket up around her, she jokingly pouted, “No bath time tonight?” 

“I think you’ve had enough bath time for one night,” he said kissing her on the forehead. 

“You saw all of that?” she asked as she sat up in bed mortified.

He hummed before inquiring, “Princess…parts?” He cocked an eyebrow at her while tilting his head. She flushed red. Gryffindor. Ruby. Red. “I am the half blood prince,” he said sarcastically as he walked over to her Floo, “so, in a way, I suppose they are princess parts.” And then he was gone.

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End of Chapter and warning 

 

I know you are all curious about Snape, and I don’t plan on sharing too much of his past in the story. (1- Because the story is about her, even though he grows throughout the process as well. 2- We are not going to get any chapters in his perspective) I’ll try to give you relevant information as we go along. For now, here’s what I may have revealed about him in the last 16 chapters were the story more focused on him. 

Severus has been in a position to protect for a long time. In the beginning, when he realized Hermione was “Sarah” he was drawn back to feeling frustrated by “one of them” being reckless again. She unknowingly put him in a position where he could chase her off to protect her OR he could let her carry on and feel guilty later if anything happened to her. (After lily, I just can’t see that happening as that regret is never going to leave him). Right or wrong, that’s how he felt. 

While in the service of the Dark Lord, Severus was aware of revels, though he did not participate in them. They were NOT events coordinated by the Dark Lord. Many criminals and corrupt men were drawn to his side, who were thugs before they ever became death eaters. Because there was a group of them together, they were even more dangerous than on their own. These men used the excuse of the women being muggle borns or muggles to justify their actions, even though they really didn’t care about blood status. 

The Dark Lord looked the other way when it came to his follower’s extracurricular activities because it furthered his cause, even if not in the way he himself was focused on. The Dark Lord was not necessarily sexually sadistic. He really was focused on his goal for power and domination. Severus hated these particular death eater (likely because of how he saw his mother be treated if for no other reason). He tried at one point to suggest the Dark Lord put an end to it because “it would draw more purebloods to his side if he weren’t associated with that sort of thing,” but the Dark Lord refused to acknowledge that he had a valid point. Severus knows some of these men show up at Ruby’s…together. Ruby hasn’t had any complaints, but he still doesn’t trust them. It really wasn’t about her per say, but rather him feeling responsible for anything bad that may have happened to her there. Because he was working, which she didn’t even know at the time, he knew he couldn’t possibly watch her the whole time, every time to make sure she didn’t go off with one of them. 

Severus has only had short term sexual relationships. He has never had a relationship outside of sex that was healthy. Over the years he became comfortable with the idea of being alone. Going into the agreement with Hermione, he had no expectations outside of sex, and so he made it clear to her that they were not dating. At that point in his life, he believed and accepted that he was not meant to have an emotionally close relationship with anyone, as sad as that is. 

When Severus started doing the morning routine with Hermione, he hadn’t expected to gain anything from it personally. It was intended to be for her, but as it became a regular occurrence, it grew into something he wanted too, perhaps even more than she did. It was the first time in his life that he had experienced a non sexual connection with someone who he didn’t expect anything from and who didn’t expect anything from him. Severus, not having the expectation of Hermione filling a “need” is how his relationship with her is different and healthy in comparison to the relationship he had with Lily. 

With lily, he was desperate for that human connection his parents and everyone else failed to provide him with, and he wanted her to fill ALL of the voids in his life. That’s too much for anyone and a sure way to exhaust a significant other or friend. With Hermione, he hadn’t been desperate for the connection because he had given up the hope of having it. He isn’t using her to fill a void or feel whole. He is experiencing new things along with her. 

Severus had never given or received physical affection outside of sex before, and it surprised him that it felt good, even though he didn’t really understand it. Him caring for Hermione is something new for him. The dynamic between the two of them that looks paternal is about different things for each of them, but he figures, why should that matter? If someone likes to swim for exercise and someone else likes to swim for entertainment, that doesn’t mean the two people can’t go swimming together and enjoy themselves. It’s that simple in his mind when it comes to the platonic, nurturing aspects of the relationship. Hermione responding favorably to his affection has him sort of enraptured with her. He’s felt needed too often and never wanted. Without knowing it or meaning to, Hermione has shown time and time again that she wants him there with her and wants what he has to offer. She has already been more consistent in his life than anyone else has after only two and a half months. 

So now that you know some of where he is coming from, I hope it makes sense why he may be willing to engage in this potions role play with her. He is doing what he can to learn and understand what she wants. The more comfortable she is with it all, the more comfortable he will be. He already knows this about himself. He is going to come to several crossroads in the future, which he is also aware of. I do have more to tell you about that, but not yet!


	18. A Play Date

Hermione walked across the school grounds to the gate on Sunday afternoon. Professor Snape had requested she meet him, and she was anxious to see what they would be doing. It was obvious he planned on taking her somewhere, but she had no clue what he had on the agenda. “Sir,” she greeted as she approached the gate. 

“Miss Granger,” he replied as he held the gate open for her while looking over her to see if anyone was around. “Let’s go,” he said as he held his arm out to her. As soon as she had a firm grip, they disapparated. 

Hermione was perplexed to see herself in a heavily wooded area. “Where are we, Professor?” she asked looking up at him wondering if this was his idea of fulfilling the ‘public’ category on that sheet she had filled out weeks ago. 

“Nowhere. I’d like for you to take the potion,” he explained as he pulled it out of his pocket.

“You want me to go out in public like that?” she balked. 

“Yes. We’re not going anywhere we will be recognized. It’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “Here,” he said handing her the potion.

Feeling a bit unsure, she stated, “This sounds like a horrible idea, Sir.”

Professor Snape transfigured his teaching robes into the clothes he wore to Ruby’s House on Saturdays. “Tut-tut,” he responded. “Drink up. We haven’t got all day.”

Fuck. She never expected him to push her limits in this fashion. Hermione downed the potion and stood there while she slowly changed. Professor Snape waved his wand at her a few times before her clothes readjusted to fit her smaller frame. 

“Ready?” he asked. When Hermione shrugged indecisively, he took her by the hand, and they took off immediately. Hermione felt light headed as soon as her feet touched the ground. 

Still clinging to his arm, she asked, “What just happened?”

“We just apparated across the Atlantic. This is New York City,” he explained.

“It smells awful!” she complained as she looked over her shoulder at the dumpster in the alley they were standing in. They must have been behind a seafood restaurant. “Why are we in New York?”

“We’re going shopping,” he announced. 

“Shopping?” she questioned. “Are you mad?!”

He said, “Perhaps. Come on.” Professor Snape grabbed her by the hand and dragged her out onto the busy sidewalk. 

Bells jingled as he led her through the glass double doors of a department store. She followed him to the back corner, but stood there looking at him oddly when she found herself in the middle of the youth clothing section. Afraid to ask, she stood there awkwardly glancing around until he spoke.

“Miss Granger, I understand you are surprised, but do try not to look so frightened,” Professor Snape told her. He looked around them and picked up a dress. Holding it up, he asked, “What about this one?”

“I think it’s a bit small for you, Sir,” she replied. 

He took a few steps toward her and leaned down, hands on his knees, to look her in the eye. “Any more cheek, and I’ll be giving you a spanking when we return. Is that clear?”

Red with embarrassment, Hermione nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Gods, she hoped no one heard that!

“Good. Do you like this one?” he asked again.

“It’s alright. I’d have to try it on, though,” she explained. 

“Well, pick out a few more, and then you can try them all on in one trip,” he told her. Hermione hesitated before reaching for a shirt. “No,” he stopped her. “I want you in dresses.” Blushing more deeply, Hermione picked out another five dresses before he lost patience and led her to the fitting room. “I want you to cast a silencing charm once you’re in there,” he said. 

“Why?” she asked thinking it was an odd request. 

“Humor me,” he said silkily. 

Once in the fitting room, Hermione cast the silencing charm like he instructed her to do. She had just unbuttoned her jeans when Professor Snape apparated directly in front of her. She nearly screamed in surprise, but she understood then what the silencing charm had been for. “Sir, this is the girl's fitting room!”

“I’m aware. How am I supposed to help you pick if I’m out there?” he asked. 

Okay, she though. This ought to be interesting. Hermione continued stripping down to her underwear and pulled the first dress over her head. “I don’t like this one. It’s itchy,” she complained.

“I don’t like it either. Try the next one,” he instructed. He waited for her to change into the blue dress. “I like that one,” he told her.

“Really?” she asked looking down at it. “The baby blue doesn’t bother you?”

“No. I like it,” he repeated. “We’re getting it. Here,” he said handing her the next dress. “Try this one.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione emerged from the fitting room with three dresses that met Professor Snape’s approval. He was waiting for her over by a display of shirts looking annoyed at the baby who was crying in a nearby stroller. “Are we done now?” she whispered to him.

“Hardly,” he replied taking her by the hand and directing her to the undergarments. Hermione thought she was going to die from embarrassment as he picked up a package of pink underwear with cartoon characters on them. “These are cute,” he said. “Who doesn’t like Cinderella?” 

“That’s Aurora,” she corrected him. When he looked at her in confusion, she rolled her eyes and said, “Sleeping Beauty.”

Professor Snape put the package back and picked up another with Hello Kitty on them. “What about these?” he asked, turning the package over to look at the back.

Noticing a woman standing a few feet away watching him with a disturbed expression on her face, Hermione panicked. “Daaad, you’re embarrassing me,” she said as she snatched the package out of his hands. The look he gave her was priceless. The woman, having lost interest, was walking away toward the socks. “People are staring. I can pick these out myself,” she snapped.

“Oh,” he said looking around. “Fine. Don’t forget a brassiere, and pick out a suit while you’re at it,” he said pointing over to the swimwear. “I’ll be up toward the front,” he told her as he started to walk off. 

Right. Because she needed a bra, she thought to herself. Unsure of what size she should get, it took her longer than expected, but she walked up toward the registers with a suit, a package of panties, and a training bra. Hermione suddenly felt extremely grateful for having had a mother to take her shopping when she was young. “Let’s go, please,” she begged as she approached him. 

“Not yet. We’re almost done,” he stated. Professor Snape walked her over to the cosmetic section and bent over to look at the rows of nail polish. Hermione could do nothing but stare at him while he selected a sparkly pink shade. “This one is nice,” he told her. “Find some,” he pointed at his lips, “lip gloss that matches it.”

Afraid to confront the escaped lunatic, she did as he instructed hoping they would be going back to the school soon. 

“Look what I found,” he whispered into her ear as he shoved a pink rubber duck into her hands. She was pretty sure she was turning the same shade. “You’ve been a good girl for me, so you can pick out a stuffed animal,” he said. 

Hermione could only nod. She walked across the cosmetics section into the toys with him right behind her. Once in front of the shelves filled with stuffed toys, he picked up a purple unicorn. “I want this one,” she stated firmly. He looked over to her, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “We’re getting this one,” she demanded as she held up the little bat. “You said I could pick.”

Professor Snape shook his head and put the unicorn back on the shelf. “I did say that. Didn’t I? We can go now, but I’m starving. We’re going to have lunch,” he announced. “Come on. We need to pay,” he said. 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione found herself sitting in a pizza place a block around the corner with Professor Snape. “What kind of pizza do you like?” he asked her. 

“Um, margarita pizza is my favorite, but we can get another k-”

“Margarita pizza it is,” he said closing his menu. 

After he placed the order for their pizza he said, “I found something while you were picking out your unmentionables.” Professor Snape pulled out a small box and opened it before placing it on the table in front of her. 

Hermione looked at the gold flower earrings and didn’t know what to say. This was the second time he had given her jewelry. Did it mean something? Did he even know that it is usually interpreted to mean something? “They’re lovely,” she said with a slight frown.

“You don’t like them? We can exchange them,” he offered. 

“No. I really do like them. I’m just not sure why you would buy them for me,” Hermione admitted. 

Professor Snape finished unfolding his napkin and set it in his lap. “I didn’t realize it would be a confusing gift. It was my understanding that women like that sort of thing,” he said looking at the box. 

“We do, but it’s just that it’s usually indicative of a more serious relationship,” she informed him. 

“I see. I’ve never given anyone jewelry before,” he admitted. “I just saw them and thought they would look nice on you,” Professor Snape told her. “What would you consider to be an appropriate gift for our arrangement?”

Fuck. She shouldn’t have said anything. This was like having the ‘where is this going’ relationship talk, but they weren’t even dating. “I don’t know. Maybe lotion or a stuffed bat,” she laughed. 

After the waitress brought out their pizza, he put two pieces on her plate before serving himself. Allowing the pizza to cool off a minute, Hermione brought up Ruby’s House. “Sir, do you ever get a Saturday off at Ruby’s?”

“I’ve never thought to ask. Why?” he questioned.

“Well, I was just thinking it would be nice if you took me,” she said shyly. She already knew he didn’t want her there but thought that maybe if he was the one who took her, he might be okay with it.

He thought over her request for a minute. “Perhaps if I had the evening off at some point in the future, I would consider it. Professor Snape began to eat his pizza while Hermione thought about what it might be like to go to Ruby’s as his date. Once she’d finished her first slice, they discussed her classes.

Once they were done eating, Professor Snape told Hermione to change into the blue dress in the bathroom. She had foolishly thought that they were going back to Hogwarts after lunch. Now that she thought of it, that would be a horrid idea as she was still stuck in her younger form, and she would be for at least another hour or two. 

When Hermione came out of the bathroom, Professor Snape had already paid. They walked hand in hand for at least thirty minutes weaving through the hoards of people. At some point, Professor Snape stopped and gave the leftover half of their pizza to a man sitting on the sidewalk with a shopping cart full of his possessions. He guided her down three more crowded blocks. She was about to tell him she wanted to rest when they arrived at their apparent destination. Hermione looked up at the tall accordion-like building in front of them. The sign above their heads read: Bronx Museum of the Arts.

They spent the next hour and a half walking though the museum holding hands. It was nice not worrying about anyone noticing them. No one thought anything of him holding her hand and discussing the art with her. “We had better be going,” he warned. “It’s going to wear off soon,” he warned her.

Knowing what a disaster that would be, Hermione didn’t protest or pout about the fact that she wasn’t finished looking at everything. He led her to the nearest restroom, where he waited patiently outside for her to turn back, change her clothes, and come back out to meet him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione wore the earrings Professor Snape gave her on Wednesday hoping he would notice them while she was sitting in his class. When Ginny complimented her on them, she told her they were a gift from her parents. What would Ginny think if she knew Professor Snape gave them to her? Hermione had been careful to keep her necklace tucked under her shirt on the days that she wore it. It was a far more suspicious gift. 

“See me after class, Miss Granger,” Professor Snape said after he looked into her cauldron with a displeased look on his face. The Slytherins at the table next to her laughed among themselves. 

“Yes, Sir,” she replied with her head down. 

Ginny asked as he walked away, “What did you do?”

Hermione made a comment about him being in one of those moods, and Ginny gave her an empathetic look. Once the other students vacated the classroom, Hermione walked up to his desk. “Sir, you wanted to see me?” 

Professor Snape pulled out one of his desk drawers and grabbed something from within. He set a bottle on his desk, and said, “It’s cherry. I wasn’t sure what scent you would like, but I found it pleasant.”

Looking at the bottle of lotion on his desk, she smiled at him. “Will you put it on me tonight?” she asked quietly, glancing back over her shoulder.

“Of course,” he stated as if she were crazy for asking such a thing. He flicked his wand at the door before pulling her closer to him. Professor Snape toyed with her left nipple with his thumb and pushed her hair back to see one of the gold flowers. “They look nice,” he said as he began to knead her breast. “Go before I ravage you on my desk,” he commanded. When she stood there with her mouth slightly open, he repeated, “Go, or I will have to punish you later.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

When Professor Snape walked into her room, Hermione was sitting at her desk finishing up her runes homework. 

“How was school?” he asked as he took a seat in his chair. That was what it was at this point. His. 

“Good, except I was groped by one of my professors,” she grinned to herself as she was still hunched over her homework. 

Professor Snape stood up from the chair and walked over to her. “Is that so?” he asked darkly, almost sounding jealous.

Hermione hummed in response and let out a little gasp as his mouth found her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. His hands slid from her shoulders down to her breasts. One hand continued down between her legs and rubbed her through her flannel pants and knickers. “Is that what we’re doing tonight, Sir?” she asked, hopeful that he might forgo their usual plans in favor of…ravaging her. Yes. That’s what he had said. 

“No,” he said pulling away. He set the potion down on the desk beside her homework. “You can take it now and finish up your work before I get you ready for bed.”

“Yes, Sir,” Hermione responded. Ten minutes later, she was ready for his attention. “I’m finished, Professor,” she informed him.

“Where’s the nail polish I wanted you to wear?” he asked. “I’m a bit disappointed you haven’t put it on for me yet,” he confessed.

Was he? She hadn’t stopped to think about any of those things being for him as opposed to being for her. Then again, he did pick out at least half of the things he purchased. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize,” she said as she dug it out from a drawer in her bathroom. “I can put it on now,” she offered wlking back to him.

Professor Snape held out his hand and waited expectantly for her to give him the polish. Hermione gave it to him and hopped up on her bed, which he’d already transformed into that girly thing he’d originally dreamed up for her. Truthfully, she’d never had such a frilly bed, none that she could remember, anyway. 

He turned the chair toward the bed, so they sat face to face. Hermione watched him shake the bottle before grabbing one of her feet and setting it in his lap. The urge to slide her foot up his thigh to his groin surprised her, even though it shouldn’t have. Obviously, he wasn’t aroused, but she wondered if a little rubbing would do it. Would he ask her to stop? Most likely. She bit her lip as he unscrewed the bottle and started applying the color to her toes. One by one, he painted all ten of her nails and cast a quick drying charm to set them. 

“Are you going to read to me tonight, Professor?” When he agreed, she got up and walked over to her crowded bookshelf. He straightened the chair back out and turned the lights down as he usually did to read her to sleep. “Will you read this one? It’s my favorite,” she asked handing him her copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. 

“Yes, but I would like to put the new lotion on you first,” he reminded her. How could she have forgotten that already? She watched him summon the cherry scented lotion from her dresser as he told her to lie down on her bed.

Hermione got on her bed and lay down on top of her covers. Biting her lip she watched him move to sit on the side of her bed. He squirted a blob into his palm and rubbed his hands together before working it into her legs one at a time. After finishing up her arms, he sneaked a hand under her nightshirt and smoothed over her tummy. A spark of arousal flared inside of her, and, although she was nervous, she was less mortified than before. The incident with the towel had sent her into an embarrassing state of hysterics. 

Professor Snape continued rubbing higher and higher until his palm was rubbing across her nipples, working the lotion in. Blushing, Hermione looked away. “Is this okay?” he asked as he dragged the pad of his thumb over one nipple. It pebbled immediately in response before she could answer him. 

She nodded, but what she really wanted to do was rub her legs together. Too afraid to do such a thing, she gnawed on her lip as she stared at the ceiling. He used his finger tips to make sure each nipple received its fair amount of lotion. Leaving them stiff, he withdrew his hand and closed the cap on the lotion bottle. It took Hermione nearly an hour to fall asleep, but he continued reading to her until she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Friday’s potions class was nearly a disaster. She couldn’t stop thinking about Wednesday night and how gentle he was with her. Hermione almost added the powdered dragon horn before stirring her rejuvenation elixir, which would have caused a nasty explosion. 

Professor Snape barked at her, “Are you trying to kill yourself, Miss Granger? Ten points from Gryffindor.” 

“Sorry, Sir,” she said shying away from him. Hermione continued to be distracted throughout the remainder of class. At the end of the period, she went to put the jar of beetle eyes back in the storage room. She’d dropped the first batch of them right onto the dungeon floor, which caused Professor Snape to snap at her. He said something about wasting ingredients before telling her she could get a few more to finish her potion. When she turned to leave, she was startled to see Professor Snape standing in the doorway. 

He stood with one hand on the stone archway with his weight leaning on it. “Your inattentiveness today has earned you a detention, Miss Granger,” he sneered. Hermione took a step back with a worried look on her face. She hadn’t meant to upset him. Really she hadn’t. “You jeopardized the safety of your peers, broke three phials, and wasted valuable ingredients.” Professor Snape glanced behind him as the classroom door clicked shut. “They’re gone. Don’t look so frightened,” he teased with a wolfish grin. 

Hermione relaxed as she realized he wasn’t completely furious with her. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was trying to stay focused, but I just couldn’t…”

“Couldn’t what?” he asked as he approached her and got down on one knee.

“Couldn’t stop,” she breathed as he lifted her skirt, bunching it around her waist. “Thinking,” she tried to continue as he pulled her panties to one side with his free hand. “About tonight,” she finally finished just as he leaned forward and slipped his tongue between her folds. She had been wet almost the entire class. Hermione grabbed the shelves behind her for balance as his tongue nudged at her aching clit. “Oh,” she moaned spreading her legs a little wider for him. 

Professor Snape pulled away from her as abruptly as he had started touching her. Feeling bereft, she looked at him with an expression on longing. “Tonight,” he said as he leaned down to her ear, “I’m going to fuck you like I own you.” He kissed her on the cheek gently before standing up straight and nodding for her to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Put your uniform back on,” he instructed as he sat down in his chair by her bed. “And take those off,” he said waving at her undergarments.

Hermione, who had decided to wait for him in her underwear after the promise he’d made her in the storage room, was slightly disappointed. She did have fun the last time she wore her uniform for him, though, so perhaps it would still be as good as he’d promised. “Yes, Sir.” She unhooked her bra and let it slide off her arms onto the floor. As she grabbed for the shirt she had been wearing earlier, it flew away. Turning her head, she saw him adjusting it with his wand. 

“And the panties,” he insisted as he summoned her skirt. Hermione removed her knickers and walked back over to him. He leaned forward and held her skirt open for her to step into. Once around her waist, she could tell the skirt was a bit shorter yet not short enough to show her goods just standing still. The shirt was a snug fit, the buttons between her breasts pulling on the fabric slightly. 

“We’re going to use the Floo again tonight. After having to witness all those filthy things that filled your mind today, I fancy fucking you in my classroom. Remember your safe words?” he asked. 

Of course she did. “Yes, Sir. Do you think I’ll need them?” she asked a little worried.

“I don’t know,” he responded honestly. “I have a present for you. He’s waiting for us right now in the room of requirement. 

“He?” Hermione wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

Professor Snape hummed. “If you don’t like him, we can obliviate him, and you can pick out a new one for next week,” he offered kindly.


	19. The Third Wheel

Hermione followed Professor Snape through the Floo into the room of requirement. A perfect replica of his classroom surrounded her. Jars of ingredients lined the walls, and even a hint of herb could be detected. A draft crept up her skirt to her exposed bum. Seeing Draco sitting on the worktable at the front of the room made her relax. Who had she been expecting? Lucius Malfoy? The thought made her cringe. 

Professor Snape put his hand on her back and guided her up toward the front of the room. “Mr. Malfoy has been informed of your safe words, Miss Granger. If you wish for him to go, now would be an ideal time to speak up,” he informed her as they approached the handsome young wizard. 

So Malfoy was her present? She was sure Draco thought of himself as such. “No. He’s fine, Sir,” she said sheepishly as she looked at Draco’s amused expression. His hair was cut short, and he wore a simple black shirt and trousers. Why hadn’t he been forced to wear his uniform too? Maybe this was what he was wearing when Professor Snape found him. 

“I can’t believe you’re fucking the head of Slytherin,” Draco commented with a barely contained grin, his blue eyes sparkling as the moved over her chest. Without a bra, her nipples were plainly visible. 

Hermione hadn’t even had time to realize that their “guest” would know she was sleeping with Professor Snape. Did Professor Snape trust Malfoy not to say anything? Did she? “Shove off, Malfoy,” she said half heartedly.

“I don’t have a spanking on the agenda for this evening, Miss Granger, but if you don’t watch your language, I might have to change our plans,” he warned her. Draco snorted and tried to cover up his laugh. Hermione blushed crimson thinking about Draco watching Snape spank her. “She isn’t the only one who can send you back to your empty bed, Mr. Malfoy,” he reminded the blonde.

“Yes, Sir,” Draco replied rather quickly. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was out of fear of Professor Snape or an eagerness to get his hands on her again. She suspected it was both.

Professor Snape brought her all the way to the front of the room where his desk sat several feet away from the workbench Draco had perched himself on top of. He leaned down to whisper in her ear as he waved Draco over to them. “I’ll read to you after if you’re a good girl,” he said.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied with a nod. Had he mentioned THAT little game they liked to play? She certainly hoped not! The thought of Draco knowing such things about her was horrifying. 

Hermione stood between them in front of Professor Snape’s desk. “On your knees,” he said as he reached for the top button on his trousers. Hermione glanced at Draco as she lowered herself to the floor. He wasn’t smirking at her anymore. Smart boy, she thought. “Take off your shirt, Miss Granger,” Professor Snape instructed as Draco started unzipping his trousers. 

“Yes, Sir,” Hermione responded, her hands shaking slightly. There really wasn’t anything to be afraid of, but having Draco watch her with Professor Snape was a little nerve wracking. What would he think? It was apparent that he wasn’t too put off by it, as he pushed his pants down enough to let his hard cock spring free. He had worked himself up waiting for her it appeared. How long had he been waiting exactly?

Reaching down, Professor Snape tweaked her nipple as he pulled himself through his briefs. He was only half hard, unlike the younger wizard. He moved to stand in front of her beside Draco. After grabbing Draco’s circumcised prick, Hermione turned toward Snape and took him into her mouth. She heard Draco groan as she slowly started pumping him with her fist. 

She swirled her tongue around the head of his cock and plunged down, taking him all the way in while she still could. Draco scooted closer, obviously feeling neglected by the warm cavern of her mouth. Hermione hadn’t actually had Draco in her mouth before. She had only slept with him once, and it had been a standard missionary style affair. They had both been down on themselves and wound up drinking in a pub together. She never intended it to go beyond that night. Switching cocks, Hermione worked Professor Snape with her hand, squeezing gently on the downward motion. The salty taste of the younger man’s precum encouraged her to give him a little moan, which vibrated around his member. 

Leaning back, Draco rested one hand on top of the desk for support while he stared down at her watching his prick disappear in her mouth mesmerized. Snape moved closer still, and Draco went rigid feeling their meat touch as Hermione drew them together to lavish both of their heads simultaneously. While he looked a bit uncomfortable, his weeping member told Hermione he wasn’t completely opposed to it either. 

Hermione continued stroking and sucking on them until Professor Snape’s cock was standing at full attention. The two of them must have been communicating while she was preoccupied because they both pulled away from her at the same time. She had only just gotten started, but they had other plans for the evening. Pulling her up to her feet, Professor Snape guided her back to his desk and helped her up onto it. Draco began to fondle her breast as she lay back down, and as soon as she was flat on her back he drew one nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicked her taut peak before he nipped at it gently. 

Professor Snape moved to stand between her legs which were dangling off the edge of the desk. His focus shifted toward her smooth thighs, his hands rubbing her soft skin up and down. In one swift motion, he pushed her knees up toward her chest and spread her legs making her skirt fall to her waist, leaving her completely exposed and vulnerable. His hands ran down the insides of her thighs to reach her wet center. They hadn’t given her sufficient time to reach optimal wetness while she was pleasuring them with her mouth, but she remained hopeful Professor Snape wouldn’t neglect her. 

Professor Snape told her earlier that day that he was going to fuck her like he owned her. What did that mean exactly? Was she in for rough treatment or something else all together? Draco moved to stand beside her head and scooted her closer to the edge. Before she realized why he’d repositioned her, his cock was bobbing in front of her face. Her mouth fell open, and he grabbed her chin before leaning forward into her, guiding his member with one hand to rest against her tongue.

As Draco filled Hermione’s mouth, Professor Snape rubbed her clit. When he pushed two fingers into her, she moaned around Draco, and her hips came off the desk trying to get more of him inside her. She clamped down around him when his free hand came to her lower abdomen and pushed her back down onto the desk. 

“No. Now, behave,” he warned, his eyes glittering black pools. He held her there firmly as he stroked her walls with his fingers. For some reason, this ignited a ball of fire within her. Hermione wondered why she was so aroused by him displaying dominance over her. She didn’t feel that way about every guy. She hadn’t felt that way about Ron at all. Trying to suppress her wiggling, the tension came out vocally. Draco kneaded one breast while he rocked his hips forward, slowly fucking her mouth, fully appreciating her muffled noises. 

Draco rocked forward farther causing her to gag a little on his sudden intrusion into her throat. Suddenly feeling her clit sucked into Professor Snape’s mouth, his tongue nudging at it, she instinctively tried to draw her legs together, but his hands held her down. The frenzied attack on her clit left her mind spinning, and it was difficult for her to focus on Draco’s cock, which was still in her mouth, though not as far as it had been. As satisfying as his cock had been on that drunken night, it was small in comparison to Professor Snape’s or skinny rather. 

Hermione’s failed attempts at bucking against his tongue were becoming exhausting. His fingers returned to plunging in and out of her as he continued to suckle on her nub like a nursing infant. Feeling an orgasm approaching, Hermione pulled Draco out of her mouth and stroked him, squeezing him hard when her walls began to contract. Legs trembling, breathing shallow, she moaned, and it echoed around the room.

Lying on the desk boneless, Hermione watched as Draco began to remove his trousers. Professor Snape cast a spell on the desk to soften the feel of it. Its texture became more like that of a massage table, and he enlarged it at least a foot in either direction. She was too busy trying to recover to give much thought to the changes that were occurring. 

Once naked from the waist down, Draco climbed up onto the desk. Hermione looked at him curiously as he lay down next to her on his back. He reached over toward her and pulled her on top of him so that she was still facing Professor Snape, who was now on top of the desk on his knees as well. He was positioning himself in front of her between their legs. Professor Snape was the only one who hadn’t removed any of this clothing. Just then Hermione wondered if she was ever really going to see him naked. Gods, she hoped so. 

She wanted to kiss him, and she wanted to sleep with him while he was naked. Normally those things would be the first to be checked off in an intimate relationship such as the one they were sharing. The kissing thing could easily be explained for his lack of a desire for more than just sex, but why was he so reluctant to expose himself? Was it about the control? Did he have some nasty scars he was ashamed of? Was it some sort of fetish? Perhaps she could ask him to take his clothes off for her. He had let her get him off that night that she asked him, after all. Sure, it was for something in return, but she had benefited from that too. Hadn’t she?

Professor Snape grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs back up toward her chest. “Hold her legs,” he said. Hermione felt Draco reach up around her and hook his hands under her thighs to keep her spread open. Snape’s warm head brushed against her clit before sliding through her wetness. He eased his way into her, his focus locked on their joined bodies. He moved in and out of her a few times before coming to a stop half way in.

Professor Snape put a hand under her bum, “Lift up,” he instructed. Hermione heard Draco groan before she felt the head of his prick at her backdoor. His hands were occupied holding her legs, which meant that Professor Snape had to have been handling his package. Interesting, she thought feeling impressed with Draco’s reaction. Ron most definitely never would have done anything like that. Draco used his legs to push into her slowly while Snape remained still. Draco was slick and cool. Someone must have used a lubrication charm, that someone obviously being Professor Snape.

Hermione had never been fucked by two wizards at once before. So far, it was a tight fit, and she wasn’t sure how it was going to feel once Professor Snape pushed back into her fully. Coordinating the movement of three people suddenly seemed like a massive undertaking, but she knew she was the lucky one, the one with the easiest job. She just had to stay in relatively the same place. She could certainly do that, as long as she didn’t go careening off the desk from the force of the both of them. Hermione almost laughed at the thought, but she was brought back to the present by the dark wizard above her.

Professor Snape leaned over them, his hands on the desk on either side of them. He started out moving slowly, as did Draco. Once they began moving in a slow but steady rhythm, she melted into them. Laying there almost lifeless, she felt like some sort of toy they were sharing. Draco was breathing heavily early on, and she wondered if he could feel Professor Snape’s cock rubbing up the length of him.

Ever curious, Hermione asked, “Can you feel him moving, Draco?”

The boy was silent for a few moments while he continued his movements. “Yeah,” was all he replied. He was soon whimpering, and she felt badly for him. It seemed as though he were desperately trying to hold on and was on the verge of failure. 

Professor Snape seemed to take notice of the boy’s dilemma and reached one hand down between them. Hermione could feel his hand under her bum, but she didn’t know what he was doing. Draco’s head slumped back against the desk with a groan before Snape brought his hand back to rest on the desk next to them. Within a few more strokes, he was pounding her into…well Draco, actually, who was lying nearly motionless below her. The younger wizard didn’t seem to mind at all, though. It seemed he was struggling to thrust upward, but the pounding Snape was giving her was slamming him back down into the desk. Thank Merlin Snape had padded it, she thought.

Leaning forward, Professor Snape’s robes pressed into her bare breasts, the buttons grazing the soft skin between them. Rolling his hips, he hit the back of her walls with each thrust. Draco must have felt like he was being fucked through her with the force he had worked up to. The pace was still on the slower side. It was as if he were savoring her, as if he were restraining himself but only just barely. Snape’s breath was hot on her ear, and the curls around her neck were damp with perspiration. 

A groan by her other ear told her Draco had succumbed to the temptation of release. His hips tried uselessly to lift off the desk and push into her farther, but Snape was weighting them down like a battleship anchor. He continued thrusting through the younger wizard’s orgasm. Hermione felt him relax back into the desk, his member still hard inside of her. “Fuck,” he mumbled as he let go of one of her legs to wipe the sweat from his forehead. 

Professor Snape helped her move off of Draco and then straddled one of her legs. He swung her other leg over him, so she was lying on her side. Leaning her shoulder back toward the desk, she could face him a little more squarely. “Ohhh!” Hermione moaned, surprised at the depth of his thrust in this new position. With one hand on her hip and the other on her thigh, he fucked her forcefully. The depth he reached was slightly painful, but he paid no attention to her hands grabbing on to his in desperation. 

Draco, now sitting in Professor Snape’s desk chair watching them, reached up and wiggled his hand between her legs to find her clit. “Uh,” she grunted as he rubbed her quickly while she was being impaled. Writhing on his shaft, she rolled forward, burying her head in the desk, her hair falling down around her face. There was little she could do but accept him, welcome him into her body. She lay there in a quivering heap as her walls constricted him. He relentlessly pummeled her, pushing through her clamping muscles. 

Professor Snape moaned with her as she milked his seed from him. She squeezed her legs together, trapping Draco’s hand while he toyed with her throbbing nub. Although she knew he was enjoying himself greatly, he never lost his resolve, never completely gave over control to his desire. Gods, she wondered what it would be like if he ever did. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Hermione brushed her teeth while thinking about Draco. Unsure if she felt badly about Professor Snape obliviating him, she reminded herself it was a necessity. Her legs were like jelly as she stood in front of the mirror flossing. The evening had been satisfying, but she knew now that she would much rather have one on one time with Professor Snape. He had been less himself with Draco there. At least, it seemed that way. He had said very little, and she hadn’t realized before just how much that aroused her. 

Padding out of the bathroom, she was surprised to see Professor Snape sitting in the chair with his eyes closed. “Sir,” Hermione said, “if you’d rather not read to me, I understand.”

One eye opened as his brow lifted. “None of that, now. Get in bed,” he said somewhat sleepily. 

Hermione had never seen him tired before. Not that she was aware of anyway. Perhaps he had worn himself out fucking her the way he had. Part of her hoped so. She hadn’t stopped to think about the possible implication of him always leaving her room composed. Was he not enjoying himself as much as she was? Was he still thinking about this as a way to keep her out of Ruby’s house? Why was she unable to move past this insecurity with him? Right, she remembered. She had never been good enough for him as a student. Why would she think she was good enough for him in the bedroom? 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned forward and used his thumb to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth. 

If she said something, would it ruin what they had? If she asked him about their arrangement, would he push her away, remind her that he made it clear this was not a relationship with feelings involved? She couldn’t even voice her insecurities because they were too telling of her feelings for him. She had feelings for him. The thought sank to the bottom of her stomach like a heavy stone. She had feelings for Professor Snape. Having a hard time wrapping her mind around it all, she failed to respond to him as she was lost in her thoughts. 

“What is it?” he repeated. 

Forcing herself back to the present, she told him, “I think you’ve thoroughly exhausted me.” She gave him a small smile. “Maybe you should just go. I’m not going to remember anything you read to me tonight,” she explained. 

He asked, “Are you sure?” When Hermione nodded, he stood and put the book on the chair where he had been sitting. Professor Snape walked over to the head of her bed and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead before leaving her to sleep, or lay in bed awake as it were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. Life has been a little crazy, and I was not happy with the first few attempts at it. I came to the same conclusion that Hermione did in this chapter. The third person changed the dynamic between them in a way that I didn't care for in this story. Looking forward to moving on.


End file.
